


Sharing Dean Winchester

by PrincessMisery86



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Benny Lafitte - Freeform, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Self-Hatred, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-07-31 21:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20122090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMisery86/pseuds/PrincessMisery86
Summary: Lexie Walker, Sam’s best friend from Stanford use to hunt with the Winchester’s. Fearing she would be the cause of them getting hurt or worse, Lexie left them. Once she had got her revenge, she seeks out the boys only to find Sam living the apple pie life with Amelia and Dean missing. Dean returns from Purgatory and they partner up to hunt. They soon find themselves benefiting from each other’s company in other ways.Written from Dean POV and Lexie POV.Warnings: Smut, language, implied smut, angst, fluff, hurt Dean, Dean being Dean, self-loathing Dean. Usual SPN violence (mentioned), oral sex, confident female (yes that’s a warning!)Notes: Set around season 8. Cas is still in Purgatory until stated.





	1. Chapter 1

##  **Chapter 1**

**Dean POV**

I dig in the dirt of the plant on the porch of Rufus’ cabin, looking for the key that is normally stashed there. I get about four inches deep and realise the key is gone. I drop my head onto my chest - just frigging great - and let out a frustrated breath. 

I escape purgatory, can’t get ahold of Sam, spend four days hitchhiking and boosting cars to get here, and now the key is gone. I look around for anything I can use to jimmy the lock, a protruding nail from the rotting wooden bench will have to do. 

It takes me less than two minutes to gain entry. I step over the threshold, close the door in the same movement of flipping on the light and then I’m attacked from behind.

They grab my wrist to twist my arm up my back but I’m stronger and resist, throwing my elbow back I connect with air as the assailant ducks underneath my arm. They fold in to my body, bringing their back flush against my chest and throw me over their shoulder to land painfully on my back on the wooden floor. 

My right arm is pulled straight close to being pulled from the socket, a knee digs into my armpit and the cold, sleek metal of a gun grinds in to flesh under my chin. I meet the eyes of the aggressor, “Lexie?”

“Hey Princess Glitter,” she snarls at me. 

It’s the nickname she gave me after we had a short-lived prank war, that Sammy stopped before it got out of hand. She put glitter in the air vent of Baby. I swear I spent three weeks finding glitter in all the wrong places. 

She used the nickname but her tone suggests she doesn’t believe it’s me, which is smart. I’ve been gone a year, I could be any number of things. But so could she. I look for a weakness, her gun isn’t cocked so if I’m quick enough I can get her off me before she can pull the trigger.

We survey each other closely, breath heaving with the adrenaline running through us as we decide our next moves. Her curly mousy blonde hair is pulled back into a loose bun, giving me a perfect view of the fading bruises on her left eye and right jaw line, three scratches on her neck that are flaky looking scabs. She’s wearing cotton shorts and that helps me find her weakness. She has what I think is a knife wound on the outside of her upper right thigh, it’s stitched but it’s fresh enough for me to know it still causes her pain. I use my free hand and grab her thigh, kneading my palm deeply in to the wound. 

She yelps, drops my right arm, and I take the opportunity to twist the gun out of her hand. She crawls away from me, pain and anger making her grind her teeth. 

“Are you, you?” I demand pointing the gun at her slowly getting to my feet. 

There’s no point in her verablising her answer, I won’t believe her and she knows that. She uses a chair to assist her clumsy climb to her feet, keeping her right leg as straight as possible. I was right the wound still hurts. 

She takes the holy water from her bag on the table and throws it in her face, with no reaction. She throws the bottle to me without a word and I do the same. No reaction. She takes a silver blade and knicks the inside of her elbow. Apart from the usual hiss of discomfort there’s no reaction and thankfully no black leviathan goo. 

Lexie is Lexie. She holds the weapon by the blade and indicates she’s going to throw it to me, she waits for me to put her gun on the bookshelf beside the door and I snatch the blade from the air as it sails toward me. 

When she sees I’m not a shapeshifter or a leviathan she limps toward me. Tears stroll down her cheeks before she pulls me into a hug. “Missed you too, sweetheart.” I tell her honestly sighing into her. It feels good to have human contact other than an act of violence. “Where’s Sam?” 

* * *

**A Day Later. **

**Dean POV**

I explode in to the motel room in a flurry of disbelief. Lexie glances up from her computer screen from her position at the table and visibly chews the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying ‘I told you so’. 

Although she did tell me, she told me Sam quit, he was out, living some apple pie life with Doctor Dolittle and a friggin dog. Lexie warned me before we even got in the car to drive the eight hours to Kermit, Texas, that Sam never even looked for me after I ganked Dick Roman.

I didn’t think she was lying, but I didn’t completely believe her either. But now I’ve seen Sam, spoken to him, made sure he was actually Sam, now I believe her. 

I sit on the edge of the bed and run my hands over my face, resting my elbows on my knees keeping my face in my hands. This is unbelievable, Sam quit, just like that. He stopped hunting, figured someone else would do it, he found a reason to get out and he took it. 

I’m pissed, pissed he didn’t bother to look for me. The only thing he did do is take care of Baby. 

“Here,” Lexie says, tapping my hand with the butt of a beer bottle. 

I sigh resigned to the fact that this is the truth now. I take the bottle with a small thankful tug of my lips. 

Lexie goes back to her computer; “Wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

She nods once, understanding I don’t want to discuss it. She inclines her head toward the computer, “want to work?” 

Her voice tells me she has a job. “Hell yeah I do,” I agree standing to go look at her laptop.

“I think there’s a shapeshifter in Louisiana, it’s only eight hours from here.” 

“Awesome. I haven’t killed anything in days.” I take a swig of my beer whilst Lexie pulls up news articles and explains why she thinks its a shapeshifter. Her reasoning is solid and we’ve looked in to less before. 

“Let’s go. We can stash your car back at Rufus’, it’s on the way, and take Baby.”

She side eyes me cocking her eyebrow. Lexie’s car is a thing of beauty, a fully restored 1966 Convertible Ford Mustang in a deep purple colour. With ridiculous modern modifications, and iPod dock for a start - don’t get me started. Her car is good for short journeys but Baby out shines it on space, gas per gallon, and all round awesome-ness. 

I shrug my shoulders and give her a pleading smile, “Come on, I’ve been in purgatory for a year I need to drive my baby.” Lexie rolls her eyes and I take it as an agreement. 

* * *

**Dean POV**

Louisiana is friggin hot! Like the deepest depths of hell hot, and I can totally vouch for that. We arrived two days ago amidst a festival for one thing or another, like anyone needs an excuse to drink, dance and enjoy the sunshine. The festival is perfect shapeshifter conditions; drunk tourists, lowered inhibitions, busy streets, people not paying close attention to anything other than their entertainment. 

We’ve narrowed it down to one bar where the shifter is taking its victims from. Lexie figured out the shifter is dumping the bodies in swampland. Where the marshy earth conceals the corpses and the crocs get a free meal. 

There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the victims, nothing that connects them. The shifter is simply having fun, taking on a new form every couple of days, downloading the memories, messing with the family and friends for its own enjoyment. 

Lexie landed a job in the bar the shifter has taken as its playground. The festival has the place packed to the ceiling and the manager practically kissed her feet when she said she could start straight away. She snuck me into the back office this evening so I could check the cameras, but Shifty must have decided to take a break because we both spent the night sweating our asses off and got nothing. 

I’m sitting directly in front of the fan wearing only a pair of Saxx boxers drinking a beer that was warm thirty seconds after I took it out of the fridge. It’s too damn hot for clothes and if I weren’t sharing a room with Lexie I’d be naked. The fan is just recirculating the stifling air, but at least it's a breeze. 

Lexie emerges from the bathroom using a towel to dry her hair. “I swear even the cold water is hot enough to give you third degree burns,” she groans.

“How did you even sleep in here last night?” I question, astonished she actually managed to sleep in this oven without wanting to peel off her own skin. 

I hooked up with a waitress from the bar last night so I spent the night in her apartment. I’m seriously considering going back to knock on her door because her air conditioning was so much better than the motels sorry excuse for an a/c. 

Lexie sits on her bed shrugging her shoulders, “naked, star-fishing on the bed with that fan pointed directly at me.” 

I turn my head a fraction away from the fan to cock an eyebrow at her and pull my bottom lip between my teeth, “don’t let me stop you, sweetheart.” 

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes at me. She’s used to my flirty, sexually suggestive comments by now I guess. “You know what?” she says standing up, “fuck it.” 

I give her my full attention wondering where this ‘fuck it’ is going. 

“It’s too damn hot to sleep in clothes so I’m not going to. I’m taking off my shirt-” 

I involuntarily run my eyes down her body. She’s wearing a black tank top, with no bra, and black girl boxers with pink polka dots. I wet my lips and run my gaze back up to her face. 

“-you get two minutes,” she points a warning finger at me, “two minutes to stare and to get all the immature, sexual comments out of your system.” 

I give a quick chuckle compromising, “three minutes?”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Everything is negotiable.” 

“One and a half minutes,” she counters with a deadpan expression. 

  
“Okay, okay,” my tone informs her not to be so hasty. I shake my head humorously swiveling completely in my chair so I’m facing her full on. “You drive a hard bargain, but okay two minutes.”

Lexie crosses her arms over her stomach grasping the hem of her tank top, I hold up a finger, “wait!” She stops moving revealing the line of skin above her boy shorts. 

I quickly stand, twist the chair round, take a swig of my beer as I straddle the chair and cross my arms leaning them on the backrest. I do a happy wiggle in my seat, “okay, I’m ready, continue!” 

Lexie’s laughing whilst she pulls her shirt the rest of the way over her head. My eyes leer on her ample breasts. Her right hangs a little lower than the left, naturally rounded. A small gap separates them. They would be more than a handful for me but not wasted. The circle of flesh surrounding her nipples is two shades pinker than the centre. A small bead of sweat runs from her throat down the valley between them and I swallow the urge to lick it away. 

“Come on,” she says after a few seconds of me ogling at her, “let’s hear it.” 

I clear my throat taking control of her eyes, “How do you run without getting black eyes?” 

She motions with her hands to tell me to bring on more. 

“Have you ever lost anyone in them?” that earns me a stupid giggle. “Honestly I don’t know how you leave the house everyday, If I had those attached to me I would just-.” I mime the action of fondling my own invisible breasts. That gets a whole-hearted laugh. “How do you not have permanent backache? I’m into my Busty Asian Beauties but maybe I should drop the Asian from the search next time.” 

Lexie chortles winking at me, “we come in all kinds of flavours honey. Are you done?” 

“I’m done,” I confirm with a dissatisfied sigh, “I was trying to make you blush but I can see that’s not going to work.” 

She laughs walking to the top of the bed untucking the sheets, “takes a lot more than some teenage remarks about my boobs to make me blush Winchester.” 

That sounds like a challenge if I’ve ever heard one. “Ten bucks I can make you blush.” 

She stops disrobing the bed and looks up at me through her lashes with a deadpan expression. I waggle my eyebrows to answer her unasked question. She rolls her eyes agreeing confidently, “make it twenty.” 

I motion her back to the spot at the end of the bed with my finger and she obliges. Lexie completely unapologetically, proudly, stands facing me without hesitation. I drink in her body again, licking my lips when my gaze sees the anti-possession tattoo on her hip. I was with her when she got it, she practically broke my hand squeezing so hard. 

I know I can make her blush. Okay new tactic, if sexually suggestive comments don’t work I’m going to compliment her. I unashamedly explore every inch of her gradually bringing my focus back to her face. “You’re beautiful.” 

She smirks smugly and waits a second for the rest of my comment. I don’t offer anything else, so she suggests what she thinks is the missing piece of my compliment, in an awful rendition of my voice, “you’re beautiful and have a great pair of tits I’d like to motorboat, sweetheart.”

I throw my head back, bellowing a loud laugh before claiming her eyes again, and cocking my head to the side, “A, I do not sound anything like that-”

“Kinda do.”

I ignore her interruption, “B, those were your words not mine.” I don’t let my eyes wander, I fix my eyes to hers and tell her sincerely, “and C, seriously, no ands or buts nothing extra implied.” I pause letting her think about my words then repeat, “you’re beautiful.” 

Ten seconds later her cheeks flush, the colour at the tops of her ears matching, and it’s definitely not from the scorching heat in the room. She shakes her head puffing out a laugh through her nose, walking to her bag on the table beside the fan and slams a twenty down next to my beer. 

Half an hour later we're both lying on our own beds on top of the covers, trying to sleep, but it’s too damn hot. We’ve both moved positions about ten times to try and find a spot that doesn’t leave the sheets glued to your skin. 

“Next time we take a job in Louisiana, can you make sure hell hasn’t relocated here first?” I suggest looking up at the roof in the darkened room. 

“Next time?” she sounds surprised. Then she’s mocking me in a preppy sorority girl voice, “Dean Winchester are you like, asking me to like, go steady as your hunting buddy?” 

“Shut up,” I chuckle along with her. “Just saying there’s a spare seat in the Impala.” 

“Partners?”

I puff a laugh out of my nose, “more like Mr Miyagi and the Karate Kid.”

“Makes sense, your old enough to be Mr Miyagi.”

Shit, I walked right into that one. I lift one of the pillows from under my head and throw it across the room at her. She lets out an oomph as it hits her side. She's laughing harder as she sits up and throws it back at me but I catch it. 

“This Karate Kid took you down less than three days ago Princess.” I can hear the smug smile on her face.

“Touche, okay you can be the old guy.” 

We share a short laugh then Lexie sighs, “speaking of partners. Do you want to talk about Sam?” 

I take a deep breath. Lexie is easy to talk too, she loves Sam as much as I do, but what is there to say? He’s out, he’s living the apple pie life. That’s all I want, that’s my perfect ending. “I’m good,” I tell her softly, “do you want to talk about Sam?”

I met Lexie because of Sam. They went to Stanford together, they were best friends. Lexie was injured on a hunt, ended up unconscious in a hospital, and Sam was her emergency contact. 

Sam made me hightail it to Idaho, to find her with broken ribs and vampire bites. Sam didn’t know she had been hunting until that day, in the hospital. He thought she was off exploring the world with money she had inherited from her family. 

A vampire, Zak, had killed her family whilst he was at Stanford with Sam, that’s what got her into the life. Sam had told her our secret months after I went to get him to help me find Dad, but she kept hers. She knew, if she told him she was hunting the vampire that killed her family, he would drop everything to help her. She didn’t want that, she wanted him to focus on avenging Jess, finding our Dad. 

Long story short, we spent a good part of a year with her, helped her whilst she healed from her injuries, hunted together. I watched them as they fell in love, or realised they had always been in love with each other. Zak threatened Sam’s life, so Lexie convinced Sam she felt nothing for him, purposely broke his heart, and left us both behind to get her revenge. 

Lexie sacrificed her happiness to protect Sam, like I have done so many times. She killed Zak and the nest mates he had created. She went to find Sam, but he was with Amelia. Lexie told him how she felt, only for him to choose to stay with Amelia anyway.

Five weeks later, I returned from Purgatory and here we are. 

She’s been quiet for a long time but I know she isn’t asleep, “do you regret pushing Sam away?”

She’s already told me she wishes she had told him she loved him sooner and then made him leave her rather than her having to crush him and make him believe she didn’t love him. Sam told her he forgave her, but Lexie didn’t believe he had. 

There’s no mistaking her shaky breath as she inhales, “I did, at first.” She takes another deep breath before explaining, “I had Charlie look into Amelia, make sure she was legit. I was praying the whole time Charlie would tell me she wasn’t. I wanted her to tell me Amelia was a monster so I had a valid reason other than jealousy to kill her. I just have to accept Sam chose her, it’s what he deserves.” 

“But if you had told sooner maybe-” 

“Maybe he’d have left her when I showed up? Then what?” she asks with a rhetorical sigh, “I drag him back into the life? I’ve not been doing this as long as you and Sam, but I’m not ready to give it up. I know how it feels to lose your family. If I can save one person from that agony then I can’t walk away. Sam’s served his time, he deserves to be happy.” 

“And you don’t?” 

“Hell yeah, I deserve it too,” she tells me without missing a beat. “Sam is alive, unburdened, free, and he’s happy. That’s part of my happy ending too. I spent so long chasing after Zak, Sam was the light at the end of the tunnel. Sam was the reason I fought every day, until he wasn’t. We hadn’t spoken for a long time, he stopped talking to me, which I don’t blame him for in any way. My reason for fighting changed, revenge was my reason, stopping anyone from feeling the same pain and grief I felt,” her smile resonates in her voice and she sounds hopeful, “took me a minute, but I figured out my version of a happy ending just needed readjusting slightly.” 

“Why did you tell him at all then?” 

“I don’t like having regrets. I told him so I wouldn’t spend forever wondering what if.” 

I don’t know what to say. Lexie is so sure of what she’s saying, she’s not bitter or hurt, she’s more than certain, confident, that walking away from her happy ending with Sam was the right thing to do. She’s positive she will find another way to be happy. I’m astounded by her confession, her righteousness, she’s something else. 

I’m speechless for too long so she chuckles, “you fall asleep on me?”

I fake a yawn, “sorry did you say something?” 

Lexie snickers good naturedly, “night Dean.” 

* * *

**Dean POV**

My leg bounces of its own accord. I slip off my jacket whilst Lexie holds the steering wheel and throw it in to the back seat. I open the window. Lean my elbow on the window ledge. Close the window. Put both hands on the steering wheel. Change the radio station. Drum the steering wheel. Change the station again. Turn on the air. Turn off the air. Open the window. Close it a little. Close it completely. 

I’m full of unspent energy, caffeine and somewhat sleep deprived. The shifter went down with barely a fight, six blows, three dodges and I was slicing its head off. Lexie and I came away completely unscathed, apart from missing one night's sleep, which isn’t a bad thing, but I feel completely unfulfilled. 

I wanted a fight, a decent fight, I wanted a purgatory worthy fight. But the shifter was young, unprepared and too wrapped up in its little game to give a second thought about the consequences of hunters showing up.

I dart my eyes over to Lexie, she’s riding shotgun reading a book. “What you reading?” 

“True crime, about serial killers.” her tone suggests she doesn’t want to talk. She’s so like Sam sometimes it’s freaky.

I huffed out a bored breath, I guess I’ll entertain myself. I change the radio station again. Wait thirty seconds, then change it back. My bouncing leg gets faster, out of time with the music. I put one of my tapes on. Get bored. Turn the radio back on. 

“OH MY GOD DEAN!” Lexie yells looking up at me from her book. “Would you stop!” 

My leg stops its quest to bounce me out of my seat. My behaviour has obviously annoyed my friend too. Lexie slept for the first three hours of the journey, but she’s been awake and sitting upfront for the last hour. An hour too long to tolerate my boundless energy. 

But now I know it’s annoyed her I have something to distract me so I decide to play her up. I give her a quick flash of a small innocent smile, “what?”

“The radio, the window, the fifty mile per hour leg dance,” she lists my indiscretions in one frustrated breath.

I shrug, keeping my eyes on the road, “I’ve got pent up energy.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she remarks like I just told her the sky is blue.

My leg starts its unrhythmic dance again, but before it’s finished one full bounce, Lexie’s hand is on my knee squeezing it painfully. I flick my eyes from her hand to her eyes and she’s looking at me with the wrath of a Vetala ready to bite me. 

I can’t resist pissing her off a little more, so I try to raise my leg and she grinds her hand down so hard my knee throbs. I shrug with wide apologising eyes, “I don’t know how else to let it out!” 

Lexie commands barely moving her lips, “keep. Still,” she removes her hand from my leg. 

I wait a few minutes until she’s focused back on her book then jig my leg again.

Lexie exhales loudly slamming her book closed. Throwing the book over her shoulder into the back seat, she glides gracefully over the leather seat, puts her arm around my shoulders. She’s pressed against me, her breast rubbing my arm, her thigh resting against mine. I’m not sure whether to be turned on or scared seeing the smile she wears. 

Her palm is flat on the inside of my knee, her hand climbing slowly up the inside of my leg, “what are you-” before I’ve finished my question, she’s gripping my cock through my jeans. 

My body reacts to the friction, I get semi-hard, not quite believing she’s going to actually do anything except maybe tease me for being an annoying ass. 

She strokes her nails on the back of my neck and I want to close my eyes as it sends a shiver through me, but I’m driving, focus on the road Dean! Her fingers travel up under my shirt to my belt. I look at her and she’s gazing up at me under her long eyelashes and whispers, “do you want me to stop?”

I shake my head readjusting myself in the seat so she can access my belt easier, my voice low and excitable, “hell no.” 

Lexie’s lips tug in to a devilish grin whilst her hand expertly frees my rock solid dick of the obstructing fabric of my jeans and boxers. She takes a hold of the base, her fingers wrapping around painstakingly slow. She pumps me a couple of times and I close my eyes. I can hear the grin in her voice, “do not crash and kill us.”

My eyes spring open when her neck stroking stops and she nudges my arm off the steering wheel. I lift it putting it around the back of the seat, then she’s lowering her head into my lap using her hands to pull her hair out of the way. I feel her hot breath on the tip, damn she’s going to - she licks the length of me making me involuntarily jerk in my seat.

I glance down at her quickly and she’s smirking up at me, “eyes on the road Princess.” 

My witty comeback is stolen from my throat when she rolls her tongue around my tip, then swallows me down to the hilt. Her warmth is delicious, she’s slow and methodical, taking her time. I whine her name as she devours every inch of me, greedily. I risk fleeting glances down, reminding myself to focus on the road. 

I move the hair that’s fallen over her face. I don’t want to miss this. I want to see her as she takes all of me without a problem. The expression on her face makes my cock twitch in her mouth; her eyes are closed, her rhythm is steady, and she looks like she’s eating the most delectable, succulent meal she’s ever tasted after years of starving. 

“Holy shit,” I murmur.

She brings me right to the edge twice, slowing down or hollowing out her cheeks as she releases me. She’s not going to let me cum before she wants me to. I don’t even need to buck my hips, she’s doing everything just right. She adds a hand to the mix and I’m in serious trouble of driving us into a ditch, so I pull over. 

When the car stops moving, I’m finally able to look at her. Her top has rode up exposing her sun kissed skin. I can see the lace of the purple french panties she has on under her jeans. I run my hands over the flesh at the base of her back and she shivers, goosebumps breaking out on her skin. I glide up, my fingertips featherlight on her flesh, I find a sensitive spot, left of the base of her spine and my touch makes her arch her back. 

It does me in. I’m on the cusp again. I throw my head back and close my eyes. I don’t think she’ll be able to stop the torrent again even if she wants to. 

Her lips meet her hand around my base and I groan her name loudly. I’m there, I’m right there and I’m about to let go. I think about grabbing the back of her neck so she can’t stop again if that’s what she plans on doing, but before I move my hand she moans low in her throat. The vibrating hum sounds like my name and its sends me trembling over the edge.

Lexie keeps her head still but pumps me with her hand a few times to make sure I’m spent then lets me drop from her mouth. I keep my head back, eyes closed not ready to stop riding the high. I exhale slowly, “damn.”

She laughs then the warmth of her thigh pressed into me disappears. I hear the leather seats squeak as slides back to her side of the car. 

I keep my head back but open my eyes, rolling my head to the side to peer at her. “This is in no way a complaint, but where the hell did that come from?” 

Lexie giggles tucking her hair behind her ear explaining, “that was as much for my own sanity as it was for yours.”

“Want me to return the favour, for your mental stability, obviously?” 

Her laugh is light, “no I’m good. What I do want is for you to get some sleep and stop being so annoying.” 

I waggle my brow seductively at her, “you know I’m going to be super annoying all the time now, right?” 

“You know I know my way around multiple weapons right?” she throws back quickly. 

I laugh from the stomach and she joins me. 

* * *

**Dean POV**

We’re back on the road twenty minutes later, Lexie behind the wheel and me on the back seat. I’ve been awake for almost thirty hours now and we still have a good six hour drive before we get back to the cabin. 

I didn’t protest when Lexie demanded I get some sleep, her assistance in helping me release my pent up energy has me feeling sleepy and relaxed after all.

I lie on the back seat, using my scrunched up jacket as a pillow. I have a side view of Lexie and I watch as she bobs her head along to the music piping through her headphones. She wants to let me sleep so she’s not going to have the radio on, preferring her own music anyway. She agrees with Sam when it comes to Baby’s sound system, she thinks it needs an upgrade. 

She rests her elbow on the window and she’s gnawing on her index finger which is not helping me fall into a slumber one bit. My cock twitches in my jeans, thinking about her mouth wrapped around me again.

I’ve always found Lexie attractive. I don’t know a hot-blooded male, or female for that matter, who wouldn’t think she’s hot. She’s five foot six, maybe seven inches tall, mousy, blonde shoulder length, naturally curly hair, tanned skin, deep aqua eyes. Her breasts are maybe a cup size too big for what you would expect on her frame but it’s not a bad thing. She’s put on more muscle in the year and a half I haven’t seen her and it looks good on her. 

I have a small pang of guilt thinking she’s Sam’s girl. I know if he were here she never would have given me one of my top three blowjobs of all time. I flirted with Lexie from the day I met her, even after she told me if she could have the pick of us Winchester brothers, she would pick Sam, everytime. She did pick Sam, but Sam chose Amelia. So no I don’t have to feel guilty, she isn’t Sam’s. Maybe in another lifetime, but in this one she’s single and free to do what she wants with whoever she wants. 

I watch her as she rests the nail of her index finger between her teeth, her lips slightly parted and I have to maneuver my jeans so they’re not digging in so tight, as I get semi-hard thinking about her hot breath against my skin. 

Lexie catches the movement in the rearview mirror and pulls her headphones from her ears. "You’re supposed to be sleeping,” she throws at me over her shoulder. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“I am not giving you another blow job to help you sleep,” Lexie jests with a playful smile. 

I return her smirk with a broad one of my own, “that spot on your back. The way you reacted,” her eyes jump to mine in the mirror and she pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth, “it’s a turn on for you, right? I’ve been with a lot of women and I’ve never had that reaction from a simple touch.”

Lexie laughs loudly rolling her eyes, “yes it’s a turn on, but don’t flatter yourself, anyone could touch it and they’d get the same reaction. It’s just a super sensitive spot.” 

She winks at me in the rearview mirror. My mind wanders and I'm thinking about how good it would feel to caress that spot on her back and have her buck underneath me. Or her grinding down on my dick and me brushing over it softly so she convulses on top of me. 

“Dean,” she pulls me out of my thoughts, “stop the fun time in your head and go to sleep.” 

I chuckle rolling onto my back on the seat throwing my arm over my face, “it’s always a fun time when you’re around Lex.”

She cooed at me like a baby, “aah, I enjoy the fun we have too, Winchester. ” 

I move my arm from my face and catch her eye in the mirror winking cheekily, “I think I’m winning on the fun side of things, sweetheart.” 

She sniggers rolling her eyes. “Go to sleep,” she commands, putting her headphones back in, and effectively ending the conversation.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Few Hours Later.**

**Dean POV**

“Dean, we’re here.” Lexie calls out.

I groan rubbing my face roughly with my hands, waking myself up. I sit up slowly and see the cabin out of the windscreen. I climb out of the car as Lexie is hobbling toward the trunk. 

I tell her off, seeing her limping, “Lex, you were supposed to wake me up three hours ago.” 

The old knife injury on her right thigh, courtesy of Zak, still causes her pain, I think it will for the rest of her life. She can’t spend more than a few hours in the same position otherwise her leg cramps up or she gets sharp shooting pains through her hip. Which is obviously the case right now from what I can tell in the pinch of her brow, the heavy, pained set of her eyes. 

“I’m good,” she gives me a not so convincing smile, “nothing a soak in the bath and some painkillers won’t fix.”

I take her bag from her then follow her slow amble into the cabin. I can tell each step is agonizing from the small hisses that rush out of her mouth with every tiny movement. She makes a beeline for the kitchen and washes two painkillers down with a half glass of water. I drop the bag by the door and watch her shoulders heaving, as she takes short shallow breaths trying to fight off the discomfort. 

“You gonna be able to make it to the bathroom?” I enquire. 

Lexie nods her head sniffing back tears, I cross the room and gently pick her up, keeping her right leg on the outside so as not to jolt it or crush it against me. I carry her bridal style to the bathroom and, by the time I’ve set her back on her feet, her tears are free flowing. 

She swipes them away, smiling through them, “I think I overdid it with the driving.”

I roll my eyes at her, “no shit, Sherlock.” 

I lean over the bath and insert the plug, turn on the taps and pour in the fruity smelling bubble bath I secretly use as body wash. Lexie shrugs out of her jacket, starts unbuttoning her shirt.

I’m not sure if she will be able to lift her leg high enough or bend it enough to get herself into the tub. I question, watching her small fingers delicately unfasten her shirt, “you gonna be able to get in okay?” 

She tells me the pain is subsiding and that she will be fine, as she strips off her tank top, leaving her in her bra and jeans. I point toward her jeans smiling mischievously. “Need help getting those off?” 

She slaps my arm, “get out” she motions her head toward the door, “go make me some dinner.” 

I raise my arms, surrendering as I walk out, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

* * *

**Dean POV**

I’m putting the chilli into the bowls when Lexie appears. She’s still limping but not as much as she was before. “Please tell me there’s ice in the freezer?” she whines softly. 

I scoff at her. I drink Johnnie Walker whiskey, sometimes with my breakfast, of course there is ice. What kind of neanderthal doesn’t keep a supply of ice in the freezer? 

The happy mewl she emits when she sees the tiny cubes of frozen water is comical. She wraps some cubes in a clean towel, positions the makeshift cold compress against the cupboard and leans herself into it so she has her hands free to eat her bowl of chilli. I can’t help but laugh at her, she’s nothing if not practical.

“What?” she questions my laughing, “it’s the only comfortable position right now.”

“You should have woken me up.” 

“You needed the sleep,” she reasons. “Plus, as masochistic as it probably sounds, I kind of like the pain.” 

I stop my fork halfway to my mouth, glancing at her, raising my brow which she correctly translates into me needing her to explain herself. 

She shrugs her shoulders indifferently, “it reminds me of what I went through. All the shit Zak put me through. I came out the other side, with only a bum leg and a couple scars. It helps me readjust the happy. Reminds me I’m a fighter.”

“Can’t argue with that sweetheart.” I raise my fork as a toast and she does the same. 

We eat in comfortable silence, then Lexie cleans the dishes whilst I take a shower. When I return she is stood leaning against the kitchen counter top with a fresh cold compress on her thigh, reading a book. 

She’s so thoroughly engrossed in her book that I'm not sure if she's forgotten to sit down, or if she's still standing because her leg hurts. I take a beer from the fridge, “your leg still acting up?” 

She hums a yes without looking up from her book, “just feels like a tight knot now.” 

“Well you can’t spend the night standing up.” I offer, “let me try something.” 

She grants me her attention with a suspicious set to her eyes, “like what?” 

I put my beer down on the counter behind her, take her book from her hands and throw it on the table. Then put her homemade, steadily melting compress in the sink. I stand on her right facing her, she side eyes me not moving keeping her right side to me. “Don’t punch me, but I need to hold on to you.” 

“Hold on to me how?” 

It’s easier to show her. I place my right hand firmly on her left hip, gripping it tightly. She doesn’t punch me, I continue, “this might hurt but give it a minute.” 

“Dean what-” 

I ball my left fist and grind it into the scar on her thigh taking her question and breath away. She holds her breath and I drive my fist in deeper. She grasps my shoulder as she exhales rapidly and closes her eyes. It feels good, I can tell the way she licks her lips and begins to pant. I pull her into my fist, using my grip on her hip, and simultaneously knead my fist against her thigh. 

“Fuck,” Lexie purrs. There’s no other word for it, she actually purrs digging her nails into my shoulder. It sends the blood rushing straight to my dick. She opens her eyes, her pupils are completely blown, she’s thinking exactly what I’m thinking.

Neither of us move our bodies just our eyes search the others. I hesitate because maybe I’m reading it wrong. She could just be relieved because the pain has gone. She uses her half buried nails in my shoulder to pull me tentatively closer, she’s hesitant too.

I dip my head to the left and she goes right, we inch closer. She loosens my shoulder but leaves her hand there, her other hand finds its way under my t-shirt and rests on my stomach. I keep my hand on her hip and place the other on her neck pushing her hair aside. 

I smell apple on her breath she must have eaten one whilst I was in the shower. 

She inhales deeply, and I pause. I have to be sure she really wants to do this. I decide to not move, if she wants this she can be the one to make it happen. I don’t have to wait long, she exhales and closes the space between us. 

Her lips are plump, soft, and a little timid at first. She realises I’m not going to stop her and she becomes passionate and confident, as our mouths dance leisurely. I wanted her to make the first move, and she did, but now I want to taste her, I want to take control. I roll my tongue along her bottom lip and her tongue meets mine hungrily. 

Her nails crawl up my torso, before she hooks her hands under my arms over my shoulders yanking me against her. I feel her heat through the leg of my sweatpants. I’m consumed with the desire to taste every flavour of her. She grinds against my thigh and moans into my mouth. 

She pulls away to catch her breath, moving her lips to my neck sucking in air between kisses. I lace a hand in her hair and tug gently. My voice is low and husky when I ask, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

I feel the tug of her lips into a smile against my neck. She pulls my hand from her hip and guides it in to the front of her shorts, “yes, I’m sure.” My fingers slide easily down her arousal and I curl two fingers into her entrance. “Are you?” she asks with a gasp as my calloused fingers swirl inside her. 

I suck the flesh where her neck meets her collarbone. I run my hand up her back and find the sweet spot on her back again, my fingers feather light roaming over it. She grinds harder against my leg, making me growl against her throat. I kiss my way up to her ear, “yes, I have a favour to return.” 

“Shut up then,” she jokes grabbing my length through my sweatpants, “and get on with it, Princess.” 

I pull away so I can look at her, “I’m so going to make you pay for that.” 

There’s a glint of teasing in her eyes, “promises, promises.” I push my fingers in deeper to her and she loses her breath biting her lower lip.

* * *

**Two Months Later.**

**Dean POV**

I wake up on my cloud-like, memory foam mattress in the bunker. Lexie’s leg draped over me, her bare breasts pushing in to my side and her head on my chest. Memories of last night and the early hours of this morning fill my mind and my dick jumps to attention. I kiss the top of her head, wanting an encore, but she doesn’t stir. 

We’ve fallen into bed together frequently since our first time a few months ago. We’ve both hooked up with other people in between. But more often than not we’ve ended up wrapped around each other, not only after long, hard hunts, but short, easy ones too, if I'm honest.

Henry Winchester fell out of our motel closet six weeks ago, two weeks after we got back from Louisiana. We helped him with Abaddon and then we found the Men Of Letters bunker. Lexie made me call Sam to tell him. I didn’t want to intrude on his life but Lexie convinced me he should know. Sam came to check the place out, staying two days before returning to Amelia. 

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry that seeing Sam would make Lexie take a step back from our unspoken friends with benefits arrangement. She didn’t share my bed for the two nights Sam was here but the night he left we continued our mission to screw in every room of the bunker. 

We’ve completed the mission two times over, we have two rooms left to complete the third round, which I’m sure we’ll get around to today.

I kiss her again and drawl her name slowly. Nothing. I sigh noting its seven forty five on the clock on my nightstand,. She’ll be pissed at me for waking her up early on a day off, but I’m sure she’ll forgive me if I make her cum a few times before breakfast.

I run my fingers down her back seeking out what I’ve decided to call the ‘Fuck Spot’, because fuck, everytime I run my fingers over she can barely contain herself. If I’m inside her, she somehow manages to take me deeper and just well fuck, it drives me just as crazy as it does her! 

I’ve glided my fingers over it a few times whilst we’ve been working, just to watch her squirm. I did it last night in a bar whilst we were hustling two college douchebags at pool. Lexie’s lust blown pupils had me telling the douchebags to keep the money when she whispered to meet her in the bathroom. 

I locate the ‘fuck spot’ and the magic touch works. She jolts awake grinding against my hip instantly. “Fuck, Dean,” she whines sleepily. 

“Exactly my thoughts, darling.” I agree with a chuckle, using a hand under her chin to guide her face up to mine.

She kisses me, crawling up and over, straddling me. She deepens the kiss with her tongue. When I’m ready to roll her over and take her, she pushes off my chest and sits staring down at me. “This business arrangement we have. I think it’s time we set some ground rules.” 

I cackle, smiling, “it’s a little late for safe words, honey, I’m already bruised.” 

She rolls her eyes at my comment, but I know that’s not what she means. Lexie wants to discuss the rules of our arrangement now because we both know the bunker is our home. Being on the road, sharing a motel bed, or back at Rufus’ cabin it was different. Having a home, a permanent safe place to rest, a place we can put our own stamp on, a home we can make our own, could potentially make things complicated.

Lexie claimed a room as her own, three doors down from mine, the day we moved in, but with the exception of the two days Sam was here, she’s spent every night in my bed. I understand why she suddenly wants to discuss it. It would be really easy to fall in to a contented ‘playing house’ bubble with each other here. 

I’m not afraid to admit it’s been playing on my mind too. We’ve become closer physically and mentally. There’s only so much small talk you can have to pass the time. Spending long hours in a car inevitably meant we were going to have some deep meaningful, serious conversations. 

I haven’t been as open as Lexie is with her feelings and thoughts, but I have opened up to her about things I never thought I would. She’s easy to talk to. 

Judging by the fact she rock, paper, scissored me a week ago to decide who got to use the motel room we had, to take their date back to, I’m pretty certain she doesn’t want a marriage proposal or to put a label on what we are. However we really should have a conversation about it. 

That doesn’t mean I’m going to make this easier for her though, I can’t not tease her a little. I huff out a breath and put my hands under my head to stop myself from groping her, whilst we have the serious conversation she’s about to start. “Lex, are you going to ask me to go steady?” I joke smirking up at her. “What does all this mean? Are we an item now?” 

Lexie slaps my cheek lightly, “don’t be such a girl!”

“Oh my god are you just using me for my body-” I frown disapprovingly. 

“Are you done smart ass?” 

“-I feel so used, I am not just a piece of meat for you to-“

Lexie cuts me off with a chaste kiss. She pulls her lips from mine hovering above my mouth, “are you ready to listen?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She rolls her eyes again, lifting one knee to get off me. I seize her thighs and dig my fingers in so she can’t go anywhere. She chews her lip, “so you do want to screw me again,” she concludes with a shit-eating grin. 

I give her my best seductive smile, “repeatedly and regularly.”

“Good,” she chuckles, putting her hands on my chest.

When I’m sure she’s not going to move from atop me, I mindlessly stroke the pad of my thumb up and down the scar she has on her thigh and tell her, “go ahead, set your ground rules. But I get to keep my soul at the end of this business arrangement, right?”

“No promises,” she quipps smirking. “This,” she points between us, “does not get between any jobs. Cases come first, we work a case, whatever needs to be done. We can do this after a job is finished.” 

I give a small nod of agreement. That’s more than fine by me. I grimace, not sure how to phrase the next question, “you don’t want to be exclusive, right?” 

She shakes her head looking slightly panicked, “oh god no! You're more than welcome to keep doing you, whatever takes your fancy, as am I.”

“Agreed.” 

“We act like two consenting adults, no jealousy, no falling out, it is what it is, nothing more. If one of us wants to stop or whatever, no hard feelings, no grudges.” 

I like the way this girl thinks. She’s basically telling me I can fuck her whenever I want, screw other chicks and if it pisses her off, she will tell me instead of moping around or being a bitch about it. 

“Got it.”

“We talk about shit, if something bothers us, if we don’t like something. Whatever we talk about it like adults.”

“Talk like adults, got it. Okay, we’re done.” I make a move to free my hands and she forces me back down with her hands on my chest. I roll my eyes and grunt impatiently. 

She points a warning finger at me, “I don’t suddenly become a damsel in distress because I let you throw me around the bedroom.” 

I raise my brow, “if anyone gets thrown around, it’s me.” 

She shrugs with a devilish smirk, “aw did I hurt the wittle Princess.” 

I don’t let her force me back this time. I sit up running my hands up her back tugging her down by the shoulders to rub her against my hardening dick. I swirl my hips up, “you remember what I did last time you called me that?”

“Again, with the promises.”

I flip her onto her back, making her squeal delightfully. I grind against her pussy, the fabric of our underwear causing mouth watering friction. I kiss her hard and she rolls her pelvis into me. I leave her mouth to pepper kisses down her neck. I rub my tongue around her hard nipple then suck it into my mouth.

  
I slide my hand down her stomach, into her shorts. She’s already wet and my fingers enter her with ease. “Dean,” she moans running her hands through my hair. 

I release her nipple, kiss down her stomach, “I. thought. It. Was. Princess.” 

She tugs my hair painfully and tells me to shut up. My mouth reaches the waistband of her shorts and my phone takes this opportune moment to spring to life on the nightstand. We both moan at the interruption at the same time. 

Lexie reaches over and snatches the offending phone, handing it to me. She drags herself out of the bed. She’s giving me the privacy she knows I need without asking. “Tell Benny he sucks,” she remarks. 

I manage a flash of a nervous smile. She’s referring to the timing of his phone call, not the fact he’s a vampire. She doesn’t know who Benny is or what he did for me. I’ve told her he’s a friend and she hasn’t questioned me about him, even though I always take his calls in private. 

Lexie grabs my t-shirt from the floor, tiptoes across the room, “you owe me for the early wake up call, Princess!” she informs me, walking out, closing the door behind her. 

I laugh slightly, shaking my head. I really am going to have to find a way to get her to stop calling me that. 

“Hey Benny, what’s up?” 

“Hey buddy, how’s it going?” 

“I’m good,” I answer smirking, “I was about to be great before your call interrupted me.”

Benny’s deep laugh booms down the phone, “apologise to your lady friend for me.” 

“Ah, she’s cool. I’ll make it up to her. What’s up?” 

“I could use your help.” 

* * *

**Dean POV**

Twenty minutes later, I’m dressed and throwing clothes into a bag. Lexie returns with two mugs of coffee and I thank her, accepting mine. She eyes my bag, sitting down beside it on the bed. She sips her sugary drink - she has like three large spoons of sugar in her coffee - whilst I blitz around the room, throwing the essentials in my rucksack.

She puts her empty mug on the floor. Then starts to fold the clothes I’ve tossed over the bag, making piles of jeans, shirts, boxers, ready to pack them more efficiently. “So I guess making up for the early wake up call is going to have to wait?” Lexie asks my back whilst I rummage in my drawers for clean socks. 

I agree, smiling apologetically, bringing a handful of socks over to her, “yeah, sorry.” 

She focuses on folding a t-shirt but her lips are pursed in a straight line and she’s chewing the inside of her cheek. She’s pissed at me because I haven’t explained and she knows I’m not going to. “Ah the mystery of Benny continues,” her voice oozes sarcasm. “I assume you’re going to Benny. Is it a hunt? Is he a hunter?” 

I don’t acknowledge her whilst I start putting the folded garments into my bag. I’m being an asshole, I know I am, but I don’t want to explain to her about Benny. I’m worried she will hate me for it, a vampire killed her entire family, ruined her life and I’m best pals with one. My flat deadpan expression tells her I’m not going to answer her questions. 

“So much for being partners,” she thinks aloud. Lexie reaches down to pick up her mug. “I’ll just go ahead and add ‘it’s acceptable to lie to each other’ on to the list of ground rules,” she declares rising to her feet. 

I clutch the inside of her elbow before she can walk away. I side eye her, my jaw taut. I don’t like her accusing me of lying because I never have lied to her, “I haven’t lied.” 

“You haven't told me anything either,” her tone matches her pissed off expression. 

“It’s complicated.”

Her eyes burn into mine and she challenges me, “try me, Princess.”

I know she catches the quick grin that tugs at my mouth before I can stop it. She’s trying to lighten the mood, she doesn’t want to fight with me, but I know she’s just as stubborn as me, she won’t let it go. 

We stare at each other but Lexie is the first one to back down. She shakes her head with a defeated sigh, “be careful,” she advises, tiptoeing and kissing me firmly. I let go of her elbow and twist into her, taking hold of her hips. I prod her lips with my tongue and she lets me in with an insatiable sigh. She runs her free hand up under my shirt and scrapes her nails across my flesh. I pull her tighter against me when she rolls her hips and gets me hard. 

I walk her backward toward the bed, her legs hitting the edge of the mattress and she pushes me forcibly away. I stumble back a step, her features are set in a smug, all knowing smirk and I realise she didn’t back down, this was her plan all along. 

I scowl at her. “So we’re adding ‘use sex as a weapon’ to the ground rules too,” I state rather than ask. I have to admit, I’m quite proud of her for doing it and a little annoyed I didn’t think of manipulating her first. 

Lexie shrugs her shoulders indifferently, but her smirk shows she’s pleased with herself. “Repeatedly and regularly,” she repeats my words from earlier. She knows I want to keep sleeping with her and she’s going to deny me that, unless I tell her what she wants to know. 

She cocks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to decide what I’m going to do. She gets impatient and pulls my t-shirt over her head, “guess you’ll want that back.” She throws the t-shirt in my face as she breezes past me. 

When I’ve removed the shirt, gaining my vision back in time to see her step over the threshold of the door, I shout for her to wait. She stops but doesn’t turn around. I sigh admitting she’s won, “you’re not going to like it.” 

She turns to look at me but doesn’t make a move to come back in the room. “I was in Purgatory with Benny,” I begin holding her eyes. “He helped me get out, helped me fight, kept me alive.” Her features softened and I continue whilst she walks back to me, “he hitched a ride with me because only humans can use the portal.”

She stops mid step hearing ‘humans’ two feet from me. My eyes are downcast staring at her feet. I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle to look of disgust and hate she’ll give me when I tell her what he is. 

Although I don’t have to say the words, she’s smart she figures it out before I can tell her. “He’s a vampire. That’s why you didn’t want to tell me.”

I talk fast because I’m worried she’s going to turn tail and run because she doesn’t want to hear my explanation. “He’s a good guy Lex, he saved my life more than once. He’s out there looking for his girlfriend, he wants to make up for all the bad he did. He just wants to- ”

“Dean shut up,” she interrupts, raising her voice to make sure I hear her over my ranting. I meet her eyes and she has an understanding smile. “I get it, you owe him and not all monsters are monsters. It’s not all black and white, good versus evil.” 

I’m surprised by her reaction or lack thereof. I really thought she would be furious with me. I would be pissed at her if I found out she was working with yellow eyes or Ruby, regardless of her reasons. “I thought you’d be pissed at me.” 

“Is Benny killing people?” 

“No,” I confirm without hesitation. “he’s not killing people, I trust him.” 

“And I trust you. I know you wouldn’t allow him to still be breathing if he were out there killing people so if you say he’s good, he’s good.” 

She’s rendered me speechless. She has a lot of faith in me, undoubtedly trusts me. That’s a new one for me, I’m not used to it. I’m used to being questioned, my actions and thoughts doubted.

I close the distance between us and kiss her with more force than I intend to, but she relaxes against me. She breaks the kiss after a minute or two, whispering for me to be careful, before turning to leave. She doesn’t make it one step away before I’m asking “come with me?”

She doesn’t break her stride, “give me twenty minutes to pack.” 

I feel the smile in my eyes, “you’ve got ten.” 

She makes it to the door and turns to look over her shoulder at me, “oh and you still owe me, Princess!”

She’s gone before I can respond. I’ll never admit it to her but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of owing her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Lexie POV**

I sit on the chair in the small kitchen of the nondescript motel room pulling on my thigh high boots. They aren’t the most practical boots for hunting. They’re good, however, for concealing syringes of dead man’s blood, which is all I’ll be able to keep on me. The basic, black, figure hugging dress and small leather jacket don’t leave much room for weapon concealment.

Benny found a group of six vamps who have taken four female victims from a local bar so far. Benny couldn’t locate their nest because they are moving too often. Benny called in Dean for reinforcements, with the added bonus of me.

I’m acting as bait, not for the first time in my hunting career. However it is the first time I’ve been bait since Dean and I started our business arrangement.

Dean is totally against the idea. He didn’t have a problem verbalising it to me and Benny whilst we hashed out the details. His anger-creased eyes, deep, growly voice and flexing jaw muscles have been appearing from time to time, since we made the plan yesterday, an obvious indication of his displeasure every time he gets the chance to voice it.

Dean stands at the end of the bed loading his gun, shoving bullets in the clip.

“How long are you gonna be pissed at me for?” I question zipping my boot.

He slams the clip into the barrel, “for as long as you go along with this dumb ass plan.”

“I’m more than capable of being vamp bait.” I exhale frustrated, he’s breaking our rules. “I’m not a damsel in distress, remember?”

“Until something goes wrong and you become one,” He growls angrily, spinning to face me, and throwing his gun into his duffel bag on the bed. “There are too many variables. Too many things that can go wrong.”

“You and Benny will be right there the whole time. You just gotta let it play out.”

His eyes get darker, his tone more clipped. “You mean sit and watch some random dude grope you again.”

We spent last night in the bar, waiting for the vamps to show up. Dean and Benny played pool whilst I sat alone at the bar in the hopes the suckhead would try to pick me up and take me back to his lair. The vamps didn’t show but I did spend the night being chatted up and flirting with an average looking dude called Donnie. I had to play along in case the vamps were there, had to make it look like I was alone and available. When it was evident Donnie wasn’t the suckhead we were looking for, I let him down gently. I walked back to the motel alone, just in case the vamps were around. Dean arrived back about thirty minutes after me, I know he was surprised and pleased to find me alone.

Whilst talking to Donnie I saw Benny restrain Dean twice, stopping him from coming over to interfere. I don’t know if it was because Donnie’s hands were creeping ever closer up my thigh making the green eyed hunter jealous that it wasn’t his hands, or he thought Donnie was the vamp and wanted to rescue me.

Since we started sleeping together a few months ago, Dean has ruined other men for me. I’ve hooked up with three other guys, but they just didn’t satisfy me. I couldn’t help but compare them to Dean and, as soon as I started the comparison, they didn’t stand a chance.

I’ve had enough one-night stands to know most men aren’t interested whether I get off or not, they just want to reach their peak. However Dean is all about making it about the both of us, pushing my buttons until I fall over the edge, over and over again. He likes it when I keep him in a state of anticipation, bringing him to the cusp of nirvana then making him wait so we can find it together.

There’s something about the way he looks at me that makes my insides burst into a firework display of desire and longing. I desperately need him when his eyes claim mine the way they do, even if he’s already inside me at the time. When his focus is solely on me, he’s not thinking about monsters, demons, his own nightmares. When he’s with me, when we’re intimate, that’s all he sees. He’s completely relaxed, unburdened, his sole purpose to make me feel ecstasy and I do every single time, multiple times. Other men just don’t compare, at least the ones I meet on the road.

After the third mediocre guy I picked up, I lost interest, and I haven’t been with anyone else. I haven’t told Dean that, and I’m not going to. If he thinks I’m only interested in him, he’ll freak out and I’m worried he’ll stop sleeping with me, and things will get awkward between us. I don’t want to lose all the fun we have in between the sex too.

So I’ve still flirted and made it seem like I’ve gone home with random dudes, but as soon as we are out of sight of Dean I ditch them. So it would be nice to think he was jealous of Donnie last night.

I fix a playful grin to my lips, “aw is Princess jealous.”

“Damn it Lex, is that what you want to hear?” He closes the distance between us, getting in my face. “Seeing some other dude, vampire or not, with his hands on you pisses me off.”

I only want him to say it, if he means it. If seeing me with other men makes him jealous, I want him to say it. Not because he thinks it’s what I want to hear or that it will stop me from going through with the plan.

I meet his angry glare with my own. “No what I want is for you to suck it up and accept that this is happening!"

"Then you can accept I'm not gonna like it!"

"I don't give a rat's ass whether you accept it or not. It's my life! I'll flirt with other men and I'll be a bait whenever I choose to. The plan is a go! Grow up, or bite me, asshole!"

"Then go ahead and get yourself hurt, sweetheart. But don't come running back to me."

I hate that word sometimes. He can call me sweetheart with a needy voice and hooded eyes, and I instantly want to rip his clothes off. Or he can use it the way he just did, like he’s patronizing me, like I’m a child that needs reprimanding for throwing a tantrum and I want to throat punch the smug tone from his husky voice. I shrug not letting his gorgeous, temper filled, jade eyes phase me, “fine!”

“Fine!” He parrots turning to go back to his weapon preparation.

"Good!"

"Great!"

“Dean, you knew that when you asked me to come, I wouldn’t sit on the sidelines, so why did you ask me?” I query, slipping the second syringe of dead man’s blood in my boot.

“Because you can slice and dice with the best of them.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Problem is, there’s a difference between not being a damsel in distress and purposely putting yourself in harms way.” He spits angrily picking up the weapons bag and storming out the door.

He’s worried about me, he won’t ever admit it but I know he’s worried. Even if he believes ‘I can slice and dice with the best of them’, he doesn’t want me to be in a position to get hurt. I follow him out the door, we don’t have time to argue. 

* * *

  
**Lexie POV**

Ryan runs his hand up my thigh and squeezes with a little more strength than a human is capable of. I play my role, acting dumb and horny, looking up under my eyelashes at him.

What I really want to do is break his hand and sink the needle full of dead man’s blood in to his neck. But that’s not the plan.

I can see Dean over Ryan’s shoulder, playing pool with Benny or at least pretending to. Dean’s been staring at me for so long that, if Ryan has any friends in the bar, his glaring will definitely blow our cover.

Ryan’s other hand glides up my right leg and he grabs my thigh tightly causing a lightning flash of pain to course through my old knife injury. Dean sees my pained expression and takes a step in my direction. I stop him with a slight shake of my head. I’m not going to let a little discomfort ruin the plan.

I bite down my urge to gag as Ryan’s hands roam across my stomach and run my hands up his chest. I lean in whispering seductively in his ear, “do you have a place close by?” I pull back enough to see Ryan lick his lips like a snake and he nods barely able to contain his excitement.

He’s new, I estimate barely three days into his new vamp life. Which makes him an easy target because he’s concentrating on the blood lust and not the potential threat I could be.

Ryan is polite, still has enough of his humanity left to remember to throw some cash onto the bar for our drinks, before getting to his feet and grabbing my hand.

I toddled after him pretending I can’t quite keep up with his pace in my heels. Truth be told I could run flat out in my stiletto boots if the occasion called for it.

I glance over my shoulder at Dean, his jaw is taut and lips pursed in that ‘I’m-pissed-and-pensive’ way but he acknowledges me with a curt nod.

* * *

  
**Lexie POV**

Ah fuck! Is my first thought when my fuzzy brain begins to wake. The rope tying my hands behind my back chafes my wrists. The metal chair I’m sat on is warm against the skin of the back of my arms, so I know I’ve been out a while.

As soon as we were out of the bar Ryan forced me against his car kissing me, all tongue and saliva. He let the excitement get the better of him, biting my lip drawing blood, that’s why I can taste the metallic tinge of my own blood. Ryan groped me, painfully at times, and I went along with it longer than I should have. I played my role a little too well, the sting of a needle piercing my neck coming from behind me shortly before I blacked out.

I become fully conscious, and instinctively raise my head. Voices echo in the empty space around me so I drop my head and feign unconsciousness. I keep my neck slack and eyes closed listening to my surroundings. It smells musty, damp, like old rotting wood. There’s a breeze prickling my skin, they’ve removed my jacket.

The voices are behind me. I recognise Ryan’s, there’s one female and another older male. The older male sounds pissed, he must be the head honcho.

The female is afraid. Her voice quakes, “we’re sorry Josh we didn’t mean to feed on her but-”

I risk lifting my head timidly, hoping they're not looking in my direction. A stinging burn on my neck makes me wince. Realisation that she’s talking about me sets in, they have fed on me. Just great I’ll never hear the end of this from Dean, he’ll have that ‘I-told-you-so’ grin on his smug mouth for days.

There’s a table ten feet to my left, my jacket thrown over it. My cell phone lies in plain view. I assume they have been smart enough to turn it off so it can’t be traced. I can only hope they didn’t notice the freshly stitched lining on the inside of my jacket that conceals a GPS tracker.

I tug at the restrains on my wrist. The young vampires have screwed up and not tied the ropes securely. I can still feel the syringes in each of my boots, they haven’t searched me either. Probably too eager to please their maker, too excited to taste me. I can wriggle myself free of the rope, I just need a minute.

“Stop your excuses Penny, you know the rules!” Josh growls at her.

Ryan sounds just as worried as his friend as he pleads, “we’ll do better next time, Josh, we promise.”

“Get lost,” Josh demands, “I don’t want to see either of you for the rest of the night.”

Josh clearly has a problem sharing his food. I hear their scurrying footsteps disappear out of the room then Josh is looming over me. He’s about five foot nine, athletically built. I bet I could have beat him in an arm wrestle when he was human.

“Problem with the newbies?” I cheekily comment with an eye roll.

I see the cogs turning behind his cold brown eyes. I’m not afraid or crying. I’m tied to a chair in an unfamiliar place but I’m not freaking out or pleading for my life. It takes Josh a full minute or so to comprehend his minions haven’t just screwed up by feeding on me, they’ve bought back a hunter too.

Josh’s face contours into a picture of rage. His hands goes around the back of my neck and grabs a fist full of my hair yanking my head painfully back to look up at him. I don’t give him the satisfaction of crying out. He glares down at me, a snarl pulling his lips back over his human teeth, “are you alone?”

“Well depends on your definition of alone?” I sass smirking buying myself time to get my hands free of the chaffing restraints, “like, right now I’m with you so I’m not-“

He holds my head steady and slaps me with the back of his hand across my right cheek, cutting off my sassy remark. Tears spring to my eyes, but I’m able to blink them away. He talks through gritted teeth, “are you hunting alone?”

I ignore the sting of my cheek. “Again define hunting alone?”

Josh grows impatient and switches his grasp from my hair to my throat. He cuts off my air, his hand is rigid, one twitch of his fingers could crush my windpipe.

There’s a commotion behind us. The undeniable slice of vampire heads, followed by the thud of them hitting and bouncing on the floor.

Josh’s question has been answered, I’m not alone. The rope falls from my hands as he uses my throat as a handle to yank me from the chair. He twists me into his body, backing away from the door using me as a human shield.

I can’t breathe. I use one hand to futilely try and pry his fingers from my neck. It’s a distraction so my other hand can free the needle in my boot.

I thumb off the safety cap on the sharp end and sink it into Josh’s arm pushing the plunger down in the same movement. His grip loosens. I throw my head back into his face, connecting with his nose. It hurts my own head but it’s worth it. He crumbles to the floor, jaw slack, eyes closed as the sedation takes over.

I allow myself a minute to suck in much needed oxygen. I can still feel his fingers around my neck, the pulsing as the blood rushes back to its destined path.

Dean appears from a small corridor. Blood sprinkles his face, machete held up ready to strike dripping with the blood of Josh’s friends. Dean’s usually beautiful emerald eyes are dark, full of furious rage, adrenaline fuelled anger pulls his lips into a snarl.

“What took you so long?” I joke motioning for him to give me the machete. “You stop to take a nap?”

Dean surveys the room peeking around me to find Josh out cold on the floor. Dean’s snarl remains in place. He walks toward me with such purpose I’m afraid for a split second he’s going to strike me. His touch doesn’t match his ferocious expression, he runs his fingertips kindly down my throat. The evidence of Josh’s assault is still pulsing and I can feel the bruises forming.

“Dean I’m-” he doesn’t let me finish my insistence that I’m fine. He kisses me, hard, but I feel the relief as he exhales into my mouth. I know the rest of the nest must have been taken care of, otherwise he wouldn’t have stopped to kiss me. Regardless how relieved he is to see I’m in one piece, he would wait until he was sure all threats had been eliminated.

I could kiss him forever, and I would, except the job isn’t technically finished yet. I wriggle free of his kiss. I thumb my blood off his lip, his kiss has reopened the cut Ryan made earlier. “Job’s not finished,” I remind him of our rules with a raised brow.

He scoffs, smirking playfully, “you and your damn rules.” he rolls his eyes, offering the blade to me, “want to do the honours?”

“Oh Dean Wincheser,” I pinch his cheek, good-naturedly taking the weapon from him. “You really know how to make a girl feel special,” I joke swinging the blade slicing clean through Josh’s neck, whilst he lays motionless.

“I aim to please, baby,” he confirms throwing his arm around my shoulders as we head out to find Benny.

* * *

**Dean POV.**

I’m leaning my hip against Baby’s hood, a cold beer in hand, watching the vampires bodies disintegrate, as they burn. Lexie is sat on the bonnet beside me, her own beer resting on her knee. Her head turned slightly away from me to watch the burning embers float in to the night sky.

The firelight dances on her face, flickering over her bruises. The white bandage covering her newly stitched bite wound has specks of fresh red blood seeping through. I can see the faint outline of the ever darkening bruises that bastard’s fingers left on her throat. Her tongue lazily licks at the small gash on her lower lip that the eager suckhead caused. The rope marks on her wrists look angry in the flicker of firelight. She handled herself just fine, only suffering minor injuries, but I still friggin hate it. I despise that she has marks on her skin other than the passionate lust filled blemishes I leave on it.

Benny whistles for our attention, coming up behind us. Lexie jumps down from the bonnet, a fond smile on her lips, extending her arms to embrace him. She has amazed me with how super cool she has been with him. She’s willingly hugging him, treating him like a person and not a monster that every fiber of her being is probably screaming at her to kill.

Benny happily reciprocates her hug, “thanks for your help, darling. I owe you one.”

She pulls back her smile still in place. “Call it even on account of you saving Princess over here,” she jerks her head in my direction.

I chuckle at Benny’s questioning frown at the use of my nickname, “ignore her, she _thinks_ she’s funny.” I grab her waist and tickle her unforgivingly before she squirms out of my reach. She smiles a goodbye to Benny then walks away to give us privacy.

“I like her. She’s one of the good ones,” Benny observes.

I agree with a nod watching Lexie walk closer to the flames, “yeah she is.”

“You two are good together.”

I take my focus off Lexie’s back and scowl at Benny, “it’s not like that.”

He scoffs at me, “please brother. I may have spent the last fifty years in Purgatory but I’ve been around long enough to know a good thing when I see it.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a good thing I just meant it isn’t _that_ kind of a good thing.”

Benny gruffs a laugh, “well she deserves a good thing after tonight.” He pulls me into a brotherly hug, “Take care of yourself, brother.”

“You too. Keep your nose clean.” I slap him on the back.

“Hey Lexie,” Benny calls out. She turns to look over the curve of her shoulder, “keep the Princess out of trouble for me.”

She grins happily, raising her beer, “I’ll do my best,” she promises turning back to the pyre.

Benny heads toward his beat up truck and I make my way over to Lexie. She’s holding the cold glass bottle to her neck. The vampires violent hold has gone more than skin deep. I slink an arm around her waist, take a swig of my beer and then put my bottle against the other side of her neck.

She rests her head back on my shoulder, closing her eyes, savouring the icy relief. “Your throat hurting?”

“A little,” she admits.

We watch the flames for a while, listening to the crackle of burning bodies. Lexie twists, snaking her arms around my neck. She kisses me lightly, “no offense but I would totally throw you in those flames for a pizza right now.”

I chortle smirking, “I totally respect that.”

* * *

  
**Dean POV**

We went back to the motel and Lexie offered to order in so I could head to a bar. I declined her offer. Benny’s observation has kind of thrown me a little. She is a good woman, way too good to me. She deserves a nice night, or as much of a good night I can give her. Our arrangement is great, I love it, but it doesn’t always have to be about us getting off.

I kind of liked the idea of relaxing at the motel with her, junk food and beer. But Lexie insisted we go find a pizza joint.

We cleaned ourselves up, changed our clothes then headed to the nearest place that served pizza. Lexie sits across from me in the booth. Crumbs and melted cheese on the old, dented, silver tray the only evidence it ever held a large pizza.

She finishes off her Pepsi with a slurp on the straw. “That was delicious,” she sighs satisfied.

I nod my agreement taking a swig of my beer as our waitress, Nicole, approaches to clear our plates. I smile politely thanking her, “can we get the check too please, darling?”

Nicole shies away from my eyes, blushing, “one step ahead of you,” she grins pulling her lips back over her perfect white teeth. She takes the bill that's tucked in the front pocket of her apron and sets it face down before taking the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

Lexie gestures toward the paper bill. “Five bucks her numbers on there.”

I shake my head disagreeing, “she’s way too shy and she saw me kiss you before we sat down.”

Nicole is pretty, young, wouldn’t say she was over twenty five, petitie, long brown hair past her shoulders, with deep green eyes. When she showed us to the table, she couldn’t take her eyes off Lexie’s injured throat. Lexie noticed and teased an explanation that she likes it when I’m rough with her and me knowing exactly how to give it to her, before she playfully nipped at my laughing lips. Nicole’s cheeks flushed tomato red and now she’s obviously intimidated by me, she can barely meet my eyes.

“She is not shy,” Lexie chuckles. “I know how women operate around you, Winchester. She is faking it because she thinks you’re into dominating.”

She reaches over picking the bill up turning it to show me the hand written number with a heart. The smugness glistens in her eyes when I hand over five bucks.

“Just call me the Dean Winchester Woman Whisperer from now on,” she laughs brightly.

I laugh snatching the receipt from her, screw it up and throw it back at her. “let’s get out of here,” I suggest, sliding out of the booth.

She glides out of her side, “you’re not going to take her up on her offer?”

I shake my head, throwing my arm around her neck, “nah, I want to get some beers and crash with you back at the motel.”

She puts her arm around my waist, wiggling her eyebrows up at me suggestively as I lead her out of the diner. “You can pay off your debt for that early wake up call, yesterday.”

“I do still owe you and I promise to pay off my debt,” I lean down and seal my promise with a kiss as we walk. “But how about just beer and a movie tonight?”

She frowns suspiciously, “are you hurt?”

“No.” I laugh at her assumption, something must be wrong for me to be turning down sex. “I just want to chill, crash for the night.”

She creases her expression into one of disbelief and humour. “Is it your period this week, did I miss it?” she sneers jokingly, breaking off from me to get into the Impala.

* * *

  
**Dean POV**

My body is pressed against Lexie’s, one elbow propping me up so I’m not crushing her. Her tongue explores my mouth. Her legs hold me against her by my waist, until there’s no air between us. We found an old black and white movie on television but less than five minutes in, I was on top of her, kissing her.

We’ve been making out for a while, just kissing, no hands roaming or bodies grinding, neither of us taking it any further. I’m holding back from ravishing her the way I want to and kissing her as deeply as I want to. I don’t want to reopen the wound on her lip and I know her throat is sore from the way she keeps grimacing when she swallows.

Lexie pulls away breathless, gazing up at me. I can’t quite read her expression, maybe a little apprehensive. She thumbs some saliva from my bottom lip, “not that this isn’t nice or anything, but why do I still have all of my clothes on?”

I chuckle rolling my eyes, “not every date has to end with sex.”

Did I just say date?

Her eyes are wide with surprise, her mouth is twisted into a flippant grin, “date?”

Fuck it, might as well own it now I’ve said it.

Her surprised expression is somewhat amusing, it makes me laugh. “Killing vamps, pizza, beer, good conversation, amazing company, a goodnight kiss, what else would you call it?”

As I talk, I become conscious of the fact that that’s what we’ve been doing. Neither of us have verbalised it but we have been dating. We hunt, eat dinner, Wednesday is movie night either at the bunker or the actual movies, she cooks for me, we talk, flirt, drink beer, and end up with our limbs tangled most nights.

She loses the surprise, replacing it with a quizzical expression, “tell me how many of your dates have not ended with sex?”

“I-, well-” I stutter trying to find a memory. “Shut up.”

She laughs at my complete lack of a good comeback, “I don’t know whether to be honoured or offended.”

“Where are you going?” I ask with a pout as she nudges me off her and gets to her feet.

She shrugs off my question, “if you’re not going to get me naked, I’m getting out of these tightass jeans and into something more comfortable.”

What she means by comfortable, is the blue flannel of mine she’s confiscated and claimed as her own. She used to wear cotton shorts and a tank top to bed but now she opts for my blue plaid and nothing else. I don’t mind it one bit.

She rummages in her bag for the shirt. I pile two pillows and use my arms to prop my head up, so I have a good angle to watch her as she undresses. She fastens the middle few buttons on the flannel and catches me staring, “am I ever getting that back?”

“Nope,” she pops, swishing her hips, walking toward the bathroom. “Red’s more your colour.”

“It looks better on you anyway.”

“Yes it does,” she agrees in a sing songy voice. She gasps, “holy shit!”

I know it’s nothing life threatening from her gasp, but she calls my name pitifully. I jump off the bed and go to her. She has her back flush against the glass pane of the shower stall staring with wide fearful eyes at the sink.

“Seriously?” I chortle holding in a boisterous laugh. There’s a spider, half the size of my thumb, in the sink. “Are you seriously scared of spiders?”

“Yes!” She answers sharply, “now please get it out.”

I pick up the deodorant can and step closer to squish the spider, she calls out abruptly, “Don’t kill it!”

I put down the would be weapon laughing lightly at her. I scoop the arachnid into my palm without a problem, caging him in with my other. Stepping further into the room to put the critter out of the open window, I have a wicked idea.

“Lex, catch,” I pretend to chuck it at her.

She shrieks my name as a curse, trying to back further into the glass door. I actually throw the spider out the window and my full bodied laugh erupts. My shoulders shaking, tears in my eyes, bent at the waist with my hands on my knees, roaring laughter. Her face and shrieking is too much, she’s bonafide petrified of the critter that was in the sink.

She slaps my back good naturedly, repeatedly, “you fucking jackass.”

This woman never ceases to amaze me. Whether it be proving how well she actually knows me or me learning something new about her, she’s an enigma. I contain my laughter once I’ve caught my breath. Lexie stares at my amused eyes with her bottom lip jutting out in a childish pout.

“Let me get this straight, you’re a kickass monster hunter, can use multiple weapons on an almost professional level, will happily play vamp bait but are scared of spiders?”

She shudders involuntarily. “They’re all legs and fur and they creep up on you.”

I spider crawl my hand up her stomach and around her back pulling her into me, “don’t worry, I won’t let the hairy little bastards get you.”

She puts her arms around my neck, “ah my hero.” she plants a small kiss on my lips, my fake spider throwing obviously forgiven. “But seriously, if we ever come across any hairy, eight legged monsters, I’m out.”

“Good to know.”

“I’ll take on any monster for you, Princess” she advises honestly, wiggling out of my arms, and leaving the bathroom. “Vampire, werewolf, wendigo, ghoul, shapeshifter, ghost, you name it. But a spider comes at me I’m cutting you down and making a run for it.”

I snigger entertained honestly believing she would. She would literally incapacitate me in some way and make a break for it. My chuckling makes my shoulders shake, as I'm leaning against the door, “you used to live on a farm. Wasn’t that full of spiders?”

She’s genuinely staggered for a second, pausing part way through searching her bag for something. I’m worried I’ve upset her, reminded her of her family. She squints her eyes suspiciously, gazing at me, “you remember that?”

“Why would I not remember that? You think I don’t listen when we talk?”

“No, no,” she replies quickly shrugging her shoulders. “I just - I don’t know,” she’s flustered, her cheeks tinged pink. She laughs it off, digging in her bag again, “I guess I didn’t think you were paying attention to me unless I’m naked, that’s all.”

I’m honestly offended that she thinks I don’t pay attention to her. We literally spend twenty-four hours together, we don’t just screw, we talk too. I listen to her, I’m genuinely interested in what she has to say. Don’t get me wrong, I love her body and the way it responds to me, but I like being around her when she has clothes on too.

“Your name is Lexie London Walker, you’re a Taurus. Your Dad wanted to call you London because you were conceived there. You have an unhealthy obsession with peanut butter. Are a total fangirl for Iron Man, you love to read about serial killers. Grew up on a farm in Tennessee, so of course you like whiskey. The first time you ever got drunk you mixed it with rum, and now you can’t drink rum. You prefer tequila, though you can’t handle too much of it.” Her search halts and she watches me with a shy smile as I cross the distance between us. “You love to watch thunderstorms because it’s something you used to do with your brother. You believe anything goes on a pizza except Tuna. Pet peeves include people who push in front whilst queuing, the volume being on an uneven number and annoying assholes who shake their leg whilst driving.” She shies away from my eyes, giggling at her feet “I can keep going. I have mo-”

She stands on her tiptoes, kissing me eagerly, almost knocking me off balance. I rest my hands on her hips pushing her away to tell her more, “Oh and the newest one to add to the list, you have an irrational fear of spiders.”

“Only the same as your fear of flying!” she defends herself cockily.

Damn it! Sam must have told her. I can’t think of a good defense, so I furrow my brow, “how many spiders do you think are in the bunker?”

She slaps my arm playfully. “I’m moving out,” she decides, laughter making her eyes sparkle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Lexie POV**

A crackle of flashing lightning illuminates the grey sky, outside the safety of the Impala.

A change in road surface under Baby's tires causes me to look from my book to Dean. Wondering why he's pulling over. "You okay?" I question, as he shuts off the engine.

"Yeah. Look," He points out the windshield toward the sky. Large, ominous, almost black, rain filled clouds are rolling toward us at a steady pace. We're driving into a storm.

My smile radiates happiness and my eyes pool with crystal shimmery tears. He remembered I love storms, he's stopping so I can enjoy it. I trail my fingers up his cheek, scratching my nails through his few days old scruff, and guide his head down to kiss me gently. His lips are so light and subdued, I'm not sure he's even kissing me, it's infuriating and sultry at the same time.

Lightning flashes behind my closed eyes.

My hunger to taste him increases, I need to feed my appetite. He must have read my mind because he runs his tongue against my bottom lip. I meet his tongue with my own and he greedily grips my waist, his fingers clutching my hip bone.

He tries to haul me into his lap, but I pull away as the hammering rain joins the lightning. "Come on," I grin sliding away from him. I'm out of the car as the next spark illuminates the now blackened sky.

I walk to the front of the car and stand staring at him as the rain pelts down on me. I'm beaming brightly, like a happy kid on Christmas morning. "COME ON!" I shout over the hurtling rain on metal.

Dean's image is blurry through the cascade of rain on the windshield, but I can see he has a goofy, ear-to-ear grin on his face. A long, low, angry rumble of thunder joins the chorus of the rain. He rolls the window down to talk to me, just a small crack, so the unrelenting rain won't enter. He chuckles at my childlike wonder, "get back in here."

I spread my arms wide, throw my head back to look up at the angry sky. "You're going to get struck by lightning!"

I ignore his concerns and slowly start to spin. I've turned one hundred and eighty degrees by the time Dean reaches me and pulls me under the umbrella of his jacket, held over his head.

I drop my arms and peer up at him through my rain-drenched lashes. The storm continues around us, the lightning and thunder so close together, it must be directly above us now. The rain batters down atop his shielding jacket. "What do you like so much about a storm that you risk a lightning strike?"

I giggle, "it's raw, unapologetic, natural. Doesn't discriminate. Its beautiful, reckless, flawless." I sound awestruck but I don't care. "It can break a tree in two or amp it up and rip a house from its foundations. But it also feeds the earth, gives life to the same things it can destroy."

I wait a beat whilst the thunder sounds. The world goes silent, the storm continues around us, but under the canopy of his leather jacket, it's just us. I feel the light bubble of enthusiasm in my chest rise making me speak rapidly, too eager to get my words out, "We see some messed up stuff, on an almost daily basis, things I can't explain. I can explain the lightning, I understand the thunder, its science, its a reaction. A storm travels for miles, hundreds of people might see it but it's never the same. It reminds me that all the storms I face, I'm not alone, how insignificant yet necessary all of them are."

My voice is full of passion, understanding, conviction. Dean seems like he's in awe of me for a minute. I'm not sure what I've said or done to earn the intensity in his eyes. I feel naked under his gaze, and, before I become too self conscious, I smile somewhat shyly, "Listen," I command.

I hold his face with my hands. I feel so calm and peaceful, I want to stay here forever. Surrounded by the aroma of the sodden earth, Dean's cologne and old leather. "Close your eyes and really listen."

Dean's eyes are gleaming, I feel like he's seeing me for the first time. Really looking and I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever encountered. My enthusiasm is contagious, so he does as I asked and closes his eyes.

"This is nature's music. No bird song can be as melodic as this. The way the rain hits the metal of the car, the tarmac, the way it drips from the trees. The grumbling, random rolls of thunder. Smell the earth, the electricity, the life around us."

I'm not aware of time passing.

My timid kiss startles his eyes open as I drop back to my feet. I realise the rain is lighter. Thunder cracks in the distance, the storm has passed. I'm gazing up at him, water trickling from my soaked hair. I feel the rain droplet as it travels from my forehead, down the curve of my nose, and I crush it between my smiling lips.

My heart begins to pound in my ears. His hot breath is mixing with mine, his olive green eyes fixated on me. I watch his adam's apple bob in his throat as he tries to swallow, his throat must be dry because he does it three times. His breath hitches when he tries to speak. He moves in closer, his lips brush mine, "Lexie, I love you." His words are as clear as the booming thunder that just passed over.

* * *

**Lexie POV**

I jolt awake, my eyes fly open and I'm staring at the darkened ceiling of Dean's bedroom. He's sleeping soundly beside me, his back to me, luckily I haven't woken him. I release a long breath and run my hands over my face. Trying to rub the dream from my minds eye.

Dean said there shouldn't be any lasting effects from the Djinn poison, after he gave me the Campbell family antidote. However it's the third time I've gone back into the fantasy dream the Djinn put me in. It's always exactly the same, the storm, the smells, Dean's words.

Now I can't stop dreaming about Dean telling me he loves me. Which is ridiculous, it's not one of my deepest, darkest, desires, it can't be. Only it must be, it must simply be my subconscious dreaming now.

The morning after we took out the vampires with Benny, Garth calling Dean's phone woke us. He needed help with a Djinn. Dean asked him to call someone else in, he wanted me to rest after the vampire job. Josh's strangulation had bruised my vocal chords. I sounded like I was doing a really bad, breathy, Barry White impression.

I let my pride win and insisted we go. We were the closest hunters to the town, that's why Garth had called us. Another hunter would take at least a day to get there and the Djinn could have fled by then. I wasn't going to let a bruised throat stop me.

The first night of searching abandoned buildings and ruins left us empty handed. I admitted defeat, I could barely talk, and it hurt like a bitch to swallow, so I benched myself the second night.

I spent the night alone in the motel whilst Garth and Dean went hunting. But I got bored, had ran out of ice cream and painkillers so I made the mistake of leaving. The Djinn had been watching us from our search the night before, and she knew we were hunters.

She grabbed me when I was less than a block from the motel. I was alone and weakened, easy pray for her. Garth and Dean found me quickly enough, thanks to the GPS tracker still lining my jacket from the vamp hunt. But not quickly enough that I didn't get to live in the fantasy for a while. The Lexie and Dean fantasy of hunting and being in love.

The dream wasn't much different from our reality. The only difference being Dean was all mine, we were in love, I didn't have to share him with anyone else. I wasn't worried about him meeting someone he actually wanted a relationship with, the fear of our arrangement ending was gone. I was blissfully happy, Dean was sickeningly sweet and content with just me.

Definitely a fantasy, that my dumbass brain can't seem to shake.

I lift my head off the pillow so I can read the clock on Dean's nightstand, it's one forty a.m. I should try and get some more sleep.

I roll over onto my side, putting my back to Dean, maybe it would be easier to not dream about him if I weren't in his bed. It might be time to put some distance between us, before I do something stupid like start believing my fantasy could become a reality.

Tomorrow I'm going to talk to him, tell him I need some space. He will understand, he won't be offended or upset, after all it's just sex to him. It's not like he can't go elsewhere and get it from someone else.

* * *

**Dean POV**

I felt Lexie jerk awake, early hours of this morning, for the third night in a row. I kept my back to her, waiting for her to run her nails up my back to wake me like she has done in the past after a bad dream. But she didn't, she turned over and went back to sleep.

We've been home three days since the Djinn hunt. Lexie has been distant, barely touched me, can hardly look me in the eye. I've tried to get her to talk to me, but she said she's not ready yet. I don't know what the Djinn showed her, but she's obviously still suffering the effects.

She spent the first two days blitzing the bunker, the floors have never been so shiny. I need sunglasses to avoid the glare off the library table, the cupboards in the kitchen are organised, the tiles in the shower room are whiter than white.

I made her favourite breakfast of pancakes and crispy bacon yesterday, took her to her favourite pizza place in town last night, had a Marvel movie marathon when we got home, but nothing seemed to pull her out of her own head. She's been completely distracted, like she is now.

I woke her up by caressing her back, once she was fully awake she turned over and tried to take control. I didn't let her, I wanted to make it all about her. To help her forget whatever it is she's still not ready to talk about, if only for an hour or so, but my efforts aren't working.

I'm lying between her legs, got two fingers buried in her to the knuckles, on the spot that makes her crazy, my thumb circling her clit. Scattering kisses on her stomach and inner thighs. Her eyes are closed, she's biting her lip, she's making all the right noises, pulling all the right faces. But I know her well enough to know she's just going through the motions.

I stop moving, slowly remove my fingers. She opens her eyes looking concerned, "what's wrong?"

I kiss the inside of her thigh and shuffle up so I can place my hands over her stomach resting my chin on my hands, "you're a million miles away."

Lexie runs her hands over her face, sighing loudly. "Shit Dean, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I get it. You're dealing with something. But it's time to talk."

She angles her head on the pillow so she can see me better. She runs her fingers up and down my arm smiling apologetically.

"Come on Lex, talk to me. Please."

Her eyes glisten with humour. "Never thought I'd see the day Dean Winchester willingly wants to have a chick flick moment."

I graze her hip bone with my teeth, she squirms giggling, "_ah Dean_," pulling my head up.

I crawl up her body, kiss her quickly then lie next to her on my side, propping myself on my elbow so I can see her face. "You gonna talk to me or do I need torture it out of you?"

"Oooh torture, we haven't tried that yet," she wiggles her eyebrows seductively, leaning up to kiss me.

She's so friggin' stubborn, it's beyond frustrating. She's using humour to avoid talking about the real issue, I wouldn't know anything about that. She tries to deepen the kiss but I use my leverage above her and push our connected mouths down, making her rest onto the pillow.

"No sex for you, until you talk."

"Ah the old sex as a weapon clause, touché Winchester."

"I'm not just a pretty face, you know." She avoids looking at me, choosing to stare at the roof instead. I graze invisible patterns on her stomach watching my fingers leave white marks that quickly turn red. "Talk," I demand.

Lexie inhales slowly and on the exhale asks, "Djinn are supposed to show you your deepest desires, right?"

She already knows the answer but I humour her, "yes. Why what did you see?"

"It's more of what I didn't see," she shakes her head, as if that will jiggle the images in her mind free.

She's quiet for too long. My fingers stop drawing. I clench my jaw to bite down my frustration, it's like trying to draw blood from a stone. I peer down at her to find tears rolling down the side of her face, dripping down her ears. I use a soft touch under her chin and guide her head to face me, thumbing her tears away. I place a gentle kiss on her forehead, "please tell me what's going on in there."

It's hard to see her struggling with something. She's normally so brave and confident, she can seem almost unbreakable at times. This isn't like her.

Her eyes are closed when I pull back. She lets out a huge lungful of air, "I saw - I thought I'd see my family. But I didn't. After everything, I thought being with my family again would be my deepest darkest desire, but it wasn't."

I understand now, she's ashamed because her fantasy wasn't her family. "Look at me." Her eyes remain closed. She needs to look at me when I tell her what I'm about to say, she needs to see the sincerity of my words as well as hear them. "Open your eyes," I demand forcefully. Her lids slowly rise and I catch her chin before she can turn her head away. "We can gank demons, kill monsters, but I'm still yet to find a cure for the human mind. The fact you didn't see your family isn't some kind of betrayal, Lex. That's not a cross you need to bare. If anything, it's a good thing."

Her brow creases with confusion as more silent tears fall. I continue explaining, wiping her wet cheeks with the back of my hand, "it means you've accepted it, I'm not saying you're over it. I'm just saying it means you're not stuck in the past thinking about what could have been. You've moved on, you're looking to the future."

Her eyes still shimmer with unshed tears, but her tight sad smile acknowledges I'm right, I've got through to her.

Lexie puts a hand on my face and pulls me to her for a tender, lingering kiss. "So, have my sex privileges been reinstated?" she asks grinning cheekily at me.

"Oh I don't know about that, there's a hefty price to pay for making me have a chick flick moment."

She's on top of me pinning my arms against the bed in a flash, "you secretly love it, you can't fool me, Princess."

I struggle against her restraint, she puts up a good fight but I manage to get free. I sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist, and flip her onto her back. I pin her arms down, grinning proudly, smug with my victory.

"I let you win," she insists.

"Oh is that so?"

"Yeah I figure after the chick flick episode you needed a win."

"I can always revoke your privileges again."

"Really? I'd love to see that. I wonder how long you could actually last without screwing me?"

I shrug unfazed, "a day, maybe two."

"Care to make a wager?"

"Yeah" I agree, leaning down to devour her neck, working my way up her jaw, "but later, right now you need to be taught a lesson."

I claim her mouth as my own before she can respond. I allow her control of her hands, one snakes around my neck, holding me in our lip lock and the other, painstakingly slow, travels down my torso, her fingertips tracing the contours of my muscles.

I fondle her breasts, and I have to take a breath when she wraps her fingers around my junk. I return the favour and match her tempo with two fingers inside her.

Lexie's aroused groan muffles the sound of the door opening. We spring apart simultaneously, I grab the gun from under my pillow as we jump to our feet. I put myself in front of Lexie, protecting her as she's weaponless.

Sam's frozen form takes up the entire door. Lexie takes a step closer to me and puts her arms on my biceps to hold me in place. She's using my naked body to conceal hers. Sam stares back at us mouth agape. "Holy shit sorry!"

As quick as he appeared, he apologises profusely and disappears. "Shit!" I groan dropping my head.

Lexie's long exhale pricks the back of my neck, "think he saw anything?"

The gruff laugh breaks through my unease. He saw everything, we're both naked, had no sheets on us in the middle of the bed. I throw my gun on to the bed chuckling, "funny." She places a small kiss on the top of my shoulder and we both move at the same time to get dressed.

I pull on my sweatpants and watch Lexie as she dresses, trying to gauge her thoughts. She seems despondent, her old knife wound makes her leg cramp up sometimes when she lifts her leg, so she sits on the edge of the bed to pull on her jeans, staring off into some distant land in her mind's eye.

"You okay over there?"

"Yeah." She answers too quickly, trying to mask the worried hum of her voice, "I'm fine."

I stand in front of her once I'm dressed. Lexie rises, fastening the button and zipper on her jeans. Pants fastened, she meet my eyes, swiftly kissing my cheek. "I need coffee," she advises, stepping around me.

I catch her wrist before she gets too far, and spin her back to me, catching her lips with mine as she stumbles into my chest. We linger with our lips pressed together and neither of us attempt to make it deeper, pulling apart at the same time. I give her a questioning look, "didn't we agree to talk like adults?"

She pecks my lips with a shy smile, her palms flat against my chest. She focuses on my face. I let go of a big breath, slowly fixing my eyes to hers, wanting to measure her reaction when I ask, "do you feel guilty?"

"No I don't," she tells me firmly, "but you do, right?"

I'm not sure what I feel. I do feel some guilt but I don't know if it's guilt because Sam just caught me screwing the girl he's in love with. Or maybe because I don't feel like I did anything wrong and don't feel guilty at all, so my lack of guilt in turn makes me feel guilty.

She drops her eyes and gives a small knowing smile, taking my lack of response as a response. She pats my chest condescendingly, "let's just go see what's going on."

* * *

**Lexie POV**

Dean and I make our way into the kitchen to find Sam sat at the table hugging a mug of coffee. He meets both our eyes and apologises sincerely, again, for not knocking before he opened the door.

I smile sweetly, sitting across from him, "it's fine Sam, don't sweat it."

Dean slides a fresh cup of coffee across the table to me, then asks Sam what's going on, as he lowers himself into the chair beside him. Dean is worried about Sam, wondering why he's here, I understand that. But the fact he chose to sit beside his brother and not beside me, stings more than I like.

Sam explains the reason for his unannounced visit. Amelia's thought to be dead husband, Don, showed up. Sam left because he thought Don deserved a second chance with her. He had nowhere else to go so he came here. So, I guess it's more than a passing visit. He doesn't mention if he wants to hunt again and neither Dean or I push him. But now his happily ever after is over, what else is he going to do?

Once Sam has finished his explanation, Dean starts telling him about all the cool things the Men Of Letters have stowed away around the bunker. I stare at the eldest Winchester, listening to the hues of his excitable voice and I zone out.

It's over. I know in this moment, Dean and I are over. It's a distant memory already. Sam being here changes everything. Dean will be too busy feeling he's betrayed Sam by being with me. The business arrangement, the sex, the fun, the laughter, the teasing, the pillow talk, Wednesday's movie night, the absentminded touches, the flirty glances, everything we've shared, it's finished.

My throat constricts at the thought. I lost him the second Sam walked through the door without knocking. But I was going to tell him I needed some space anyway, right? That had been my plan, until he was kissing me awake. I should never have gotten involved with Dean, I should never have made myself comfortable here. I should have kept it casual, kept my distance. I should never have let myself fall- fuck Lexie don't say it - it's too late, I'm in too deep.

The realisation hits me like a demon flicking me through the air, fearfully, regretfully and painfully. I'm in love with Dean Winchester. The fantasy world the Djinn had me in was all true. My deepest, darkest desire is that Dean Winchester loves me the way I'm in love with him.

Sam says my name in a tone that suggests its not the first time he's called out to me. I clear my throat and blink rapidly, willing the tears that are threatening to rise away. "Sorry, world of my own."

"You want some breakfast?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

How could I be so stupid? How could I have fallen for Dean? Okay so the sex is mind blowing, amazing, orgasms that make me think I'm going to blackout. Sex like I've never had before, but it's deeper than that. He's funny - in a dumb joke kind of way, arrogantly charming, unaware of how sweet he can be, cocky, handsome, caring, grumpy, and an asshole. He acts tough, puts up a good front but he's a big teddy bear at heart.

I know I've been jealous of the last few women he's hooked up with on a hunt. I'm not ashamed to admit it, but I put it down to the fact that I was missing out on a night of make-me-faint orgasms not because he was screwing someone else. After all it was part of our deal, just because I didn't want to sleep with anyone else didn't mean he had to stop. Although his one-night stands have become less frequent. He often chose me instead, but I chalked that up to convenience, rather than desire.

I make it through breakfast eating quickly and quietly, then, decide to go on a supply run. I manage to hold my tears at bay until I'm driving out of the garage.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dean POV**

Lexie and I faced Sam together. He didn't mention anything about the two of us and we didn't offer any explanation to him. Maybe he knew it was inevitable, he did warn me once upon a time to stop hitting on her.

Lexie quietly ate breakfast with us, then went on a supply run. That was a while ago. She wasn't in her favourite arm chair in the library, where I'd normally find her reading. I've checked the garage and her car is back, but she's not around. I must have been too busy showing Sam all the cool things I'd discovered stashed away in the bunker.

I take a couple beers from the fridge and go in search of her. I automatically go to our bedroom, forgetting myself that it's technically _my_ room. I've become accustomed to her sharing my space. I'm a bit disheartened when she's not there, although maybe she just felt it was crossing a line now Sam is here.

I knock gently on her bedroom door calling out to her. She doesn't hesitate to tell me to come in. Lexie is sat on her bed, her back against the headboard reading a book, which she closes when I enter.

I hand her a bottle, then sit on the end of the bed, my back to her. My eyes filter up, raising my beer to my lips, and land on the two packed bags sitting behind the door.

I freeze with my bottle half way to my mouth. "Going somewhere?" I ask redundantly.

"I thought it would be best if I took off for a while," she says as a matter of fact.

"A while?" I hear her long pregnant exhale, I think she might be fighting back tears. It's quiet for too long. I remind her softly, "Lex, adults remember."

"I totally regret saying that," she admits with a chuckle.

Since she made the rule, I've used it on her a couple of times to get her to tell me what she's thinking. The bed bounces as she pulls herself down to sit beside me. I rest my elbows on my knees looking at her faded creme carpet. I notice she has her boots on, she's been waiting for me to come talk to her, before she leaves. I tilt my head to look at her.

Lexie smiles at me sadly, she phrases it as a question but it's more of an observation, "you feel guilty, right?"

"A little," I admit with a small nod.

"But why?"

"Because of how Sam feels about you."

"Felt about me," she corrects me, exhaling an annoyed puff of air. "He didn't come back for me, Dean. He came back because his girlfriend's husband came back from a war. He could have chosen me, but he didn't. So we haven't done anything wrong here, but I know you feel like you have."

She's right, I do feel like I have done something wrong. Regardless of how Sam feels about her now, at some point he was in love with her, and I knew that, I know that. For all I know, he still is in love with her and I've been screwing her without a second's hesitation. That's a dick move, it's wrong and I've betrayed Sam. I never should have done it, I should have kept my distance from her, kept it professional.

I take a long pull on my beer, giving me a second to gather my thoughts. "What if he wants to pick up where you two left off? Or if you do, I'll back off."

Even as I say it, I'm not sure I mean it. Lexie is some of the best sex I've ever had, but it's not just about that. We have fun together, it's effortless to be around her, she's funny, gives as good as she gets, can hold her own on a hunt, challenges my every snarky remark with one of her own, researches like Sam, is compassionate and patient with victims (and me), can play good cop like a pro, scares me sometimes when she plays bad cop, keeps me on my toes, non-judgmental, selfless, not to mention gorgeous. I'm not sure I'm ready to give all of that up.

"We can't pick up where we left off because we never even got started," she explains sighing wearily. "I fucked him then I screwed him over and we didn't talk for two years. He got over me, we got over each other."

It's not the first time she's told me she's over him. She told me back when we were in Louisiana, before we had slept together. How did she word it before? 'Readjusted her happy' - but if that's true why does she feel the need to leave? Why has she packed her bags? "So why are you taking off?"

"Because of you, Dean," Lexie explains sternly.

She doesn't sound angry, which, if this is my fault, if she's leaving because of me, she should be mad. She's upset, but in a frustrated way, as she continues, "because being around me and your brother will just make you spiral further in to your self-loathing and I don't want that. I don't want you to feel guilty every time we're in the same room, or for this to come to a point you can't stand to be in the same room as me. So it's better if I'm not here."

There she goes again, proving how well she knows me. I'm dumbstruck, because she's willing to sacrifice what she has for a Winchester, again, only this time it's for me and not Sam. The bunker is Lexie's home, as much as it is mine. However, she will give it all up, because she doesn't want me to hate myself or continue to feel like I've betrayed Sam.

We sit in contemplative silence, drinking our beers. She finishes her beverage in four big gulps before the silence proves too much. She gets to her feet, "Sam's back," she says walking to her bag, "you don't need me anymore."

She keeps her back to me, swings one of her rucksacks on to her shoulder, and picks the other up whilst she talks, "It's fine Dean, I get it. I was keeping Sam's seat and your bed warm. No hard feelings, remember?"

That pisses me off. She was more than that. She was not just a place holder whilst Sam played house, she must know that. "Hey!" I bark. I'm across the room, and standing in her personal space, by the time she's stood up straight again.

"You really think that's all this was?" It comes out angrier than I intended, but the more her words echo in my head, the more pissed off I get. I slam my bottle on the dresser next to us, beer sloshing out.

She chews the inside of her cheek, something she does when she's preparing for a fight. "You want to take a step back?"

"No I don't. Answer the damn question!" I take a step closer to her, an inch of space between us. Lexie squares her shoulders, my angry tone has made her defensive. "You seriously think that you were just filling in, whilst Sam was on vacation or something?"

"Yeah I do," she admits mirroring the antagonised look I know is on my face. "I know neither of us intended for any of this to happen, but I was dumb enough to believe it would last!"

"So what, you wanted Sam to stay gone?"

"No. It's great he's back, I know you prefer him where you can see him, where you can watch over him. I just- I never should have made myself comfortable here."

She hitches the heavy bag up her shoulder and it breaks me. She's leaving, she's leaving me because she thinks she was a temporary replacement for Sam. I knock the bag from her shoulder aggressively and let it drop to the floor.

Her level of anger rises a notch, she pushes me back with a hard thrust to my chest. She bends to the side but before she can reach for the strap I kick the bag making it slide out of her reach, stepping back into her personal space. She tries to push me again, but I'm prepared for it this time. I grab her wrist and use my body weight to shove her back in to the wall with a hard thud.

She glares with shocked and vexed eyes. She drops her other bag raising her hand to strike me. I'm expecting it so I grasp her attacking wrist and pin both her arms to the wall above her head, using my own larger hand to handcuff her wrists.

"Dean get off-"

I slam my palm flat into the wall beside her head cutting her off. Our eyes never leave the other's. I don't know what I'm doing. I just know this conversation isn't over. I'm not going to let her walk away before she's given me a minute to think it through. Both our breaths are heaving, mixed emotions and adrenaline rushing through us. I have her firmly pinned, my heavy body flush against hers, and my hold on her wrists is inflexible.

She doesn't like that I've overpowered her, I see in her eyes she wants to fight back. She pushes off the wall but I'm stronger. I slide my larger thigh in the middle of her legs, she has to spread her legs around me to stop my knee grinding painfully into her groin. I've effectively stopped any further resistance, I can keep her incarcerated against the wall like this, and she fucking hates it.

She looks like a ferocious caged animal, and she sounds like one too, when she snarls through clenched teeth, "Dean, let me go!"

I study her face. The deep crease of her brow, the way her nostrils flare as she inhales and exhales angry breaths, the slight natural pout to her lips, and maybe for the first time I notice her eyes lashes are lighter at the roots.

I use my free hand to push hair from her face. "Dean I swear-"

I cut off her empty threat, kissing her determinedly. She's riled with me still, she doesn't want to kiss me. Her unresponsive body is an alien feeling to me, and I hate it with every pulse of my heightened heartbeat. She tries to free her hands but I force her arms higher up the wall, making her rise to the tips of her toes.

She growls against my mouth and refuses to part her lips for my tongue. Her teeth cut into my bottom lip, almost breaking the skin. I release her mouth but refuse to lift any of my weight from her. I roll my tongue over the throb her bite has caused, our eyes locked in a standoff.

Right now, there's no doubt in my mind I'm not ready to give her up. Whatever it is that we have, the hunting partnership, the sex, the fun, everything, I'm not prepared to let it go. I want time to work it all out, before we make any decisions. My throat is dry with words I can't verbalise. All I can manage is barely above a whisper when I ask her, "stay?"

Lexie's eyes rapidly search mine. I detect the fight draining from her body. I allow her to put her feet flat on the floor, sliding her arms down the wall as she relaxes beneath my grip.

Tears collect in her eyes and she shakes her head once. "Dean, it's a bad idea-"

"Please," I interrupt. I inhale steadying my voice. "I don't have all the answers. I don't know how all this works now, if it _can_ work, but I know I don't want you to leave. So please, stay."

One tear escapes her right eyes as she agrees reluctantly, "Okay, I'll stay."

I don't care why she thinks it's a bad idea, I'm just happy she's agreed to stay. I kiss her lips apologetically, and this time she gives my tongue permission.

The kiss ends naturally. "Are you going to let me go now?" she asks, her brow raised high.

"Depends, are you going to punch me?"

She shrugs, a playful smirk curling her lips, "scared Princess?"

I thrust her wrists up the wall, making her tiptoe again. I slip my free hand up the back of her shirt asking, "Are you?"

"Dean-" she warns knowing exactly where my hand is headed.

I stroke the Fuck Spot and she squirms further up the wall trying to get away from me. The sensation is too much for her. The way she slowly wets her lips, and the pornographic groan that escapes her is too much for me. I dive at her neck and don't stop kissing her or stroking her sensitive back until she's rode my thigh to her second orgasm. She's soaked through the leg of my sweats and is pleading with me to stop, because she can't take it anymore.

I let go of her hands and she throws one down my sweats, the other gripping the back of my neck, holding me in a punishing kiss. She's frustrated from my teasing, the adrenaline from our fight is still pumping through her. She's more turned on than I've ever seen her; so when she holds my dick she's anything but gentle, but shit it feels good. She sets an unwavering pace, I use her waist to pull her with me toward the bed. I have no choice but to break our kiss to ask her to slow down.

She ignores my request pulling my mouth back to hers, my legs hit the bed. Lexie ends our kiss and, before I can sit down, she bends and takes my pulsing cock in her mouth. She devours me once, and that's all it takes to make me coat her throat with my own body-shuddering orgasm.

Lexie straightens, wiping her lips, smirking pleased as punch with herself that she made me cum so fast.

Sam knocks on the door and I instantly pull my hands off Lexie's hips as if he can see through the closed door. Fuck, I forgot Sam is here, out of sight, out of mind.

"You guys in there?" Sam calls out when his knock goes unanswered.

Lexie has to answer, because she knows my voice will betray me. Although, if he was there ten seconds before he knocked he would have definitely heard the euphoric moan I let out. "We'll be out in a minute, Sam."

"I was going to make some dinner," Sam calls back, "you guys up for chicken pasta?"

I clear my throat, "yeah that'd be great Sammy."

"Okay cool, take your time, it won't be ready for a few hours."

We both stand stock still, until the sound of his feet disappear down the hall. I feel like a total asshole, toward Sam and Lexie. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding staring up at the roof.

Lexie says my name as a question. I slowly lower my eyes to hers. She looks glum, all traces of her arousal gone in a matter of seconds. "If you want me to stay-"

"I do," I tell her quickly.

Her mouth twitches, but she doesn't quite smile, "maybe we should cool it for a while or-" she pauses.

I don't like what the "or" implies. Her pause is too heavy and I don't know if she's waiting for a reaction, or if she doesn't want to finish her own thought. "Or what?"

"Maybe we should stop whatever this is," She sighs, going around me sitting on the bed. "At least until you decide what you want to do. Decide what you hate less, yourself or how much you'll miss me." She smirks playfully, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

I keep my tone light, but I'm half serious, "I think you underestimate the depths of my self loathing, sweetheart."

She laughs, but it dies on her lips by the time she's stood up, "I think I have a pretty good idea."

We move into each other at the same time, I cup her face as she holds my hips. We kiss intensely, unhurriedly, and something about the way she melts against me, makes it feel like a goodbye, like she knows it's the last time she's going to kiss me.

Lexie is the one to break it, sooner than I'm ready for it to end. I hold her eyes for a second then walk to the door without a word. I clock her bags again. I look over my shoulder at her with my hand on the handle, "want a hand unpacking?"

Her chuckle is more genuine than the last, "I know your type of unpacking," she jokes lightly, "I got it thanks."

* * *

**Dean POV**

Sam finds me in the war room a few hours later, to tell me dinner is ready. Lexie is already in the kitchen, setting the table when I enter.

I notice she's showered, wearing her clean clothes. I honestly don't remember the last time I saw her wearing her own clothes in the bunker. She's always in one of my shirts and not much else. Whenever she would complain she was cold, any suggestion of putting on more clothes was met with an incredulous cock of her eyebrow that had me throwing her over the nearest surface to wipe off the frisky smirk that consistently accompanied it.

Lexie smiles at me when she places the beers on the table, but the smile seems forced, it doesn't meet her eyes. My eyes wander down to the V-neck, black Depeche Mode t-shirt she's wearing, and I smother a smirk behind my hand and a mouthful of beer.

I had to buy her the shirt as a replacement because I used my knife to cut the original off her. She was straddling me in the back of the Impala at a truck stop. The overwhelming craving to feel her soft skin under my calloused hands got the better of me. I impatiently sliced the annoying fabric, rather than wait for her to remove it. I can still hear the way she breathlessly called me an asshole.

My eyes travel up from her shirt to her face and she catches on to my thoughts, she averts her eyes, but not before I see the flash of sadness pass through her.

I'd like to think that's one of her happy memories. It's definitely a happy memory for me, but maybe she doesn't want to reminisce or remember any of it, now we've decided to take a break, or stop, or whatever it is that we agreed to do.

Sam serves dinner and we all sit down to eat. He asks what he's missed whilst he's been gone, so Lexie and I fill him in on all the jobs we've been on.

Every story reminds me of an experience Lexie and I shared after or during the case. Not just the sexual encounters, something I said that made her laugh in that melodic, lose-her-breath way, that always makes me smile. Memories of how she handled a victim, conversations we had in the Impala, a badass move she did during a fight, a stupid move she took a risk in trying, the concern woven on her face whilst she stitched me up, the way she gritted her teeth when I stitched her up trying to act brave, the guys she hooked up with that I knew wouldn't satisfy her the way I can, but I kept my mouth shut because of clause number 3 - no jealousy, hard feelings or grudges.

By the time the recap of our hunts get to the vamps we took out with Benny, I miss her. She's sat right next to me; I can reach out and touch her but I miss her.

Lexie concludes the vampire story whilst I'm stuck in a world of my own. She never mentions Benny's name. I'm grateful she doesn't tell Sam about Benny because I know he will be pissed and not understand at all. Sam won't see it the way Lexie did.

I know she won't want to relive the Djinn case, the memory too fresh, so I give Sam the cliff notes.

"You've been busy," Sam concludes smiling appreciatively.

"Yeah the monsters didn't take a vacation, go figure." I snap at him.

The atmosphere is tense for a minute whilst Sam and I stare at one another. Sam deciding whether to retaliate or not, but Lexie clears her throat, "dinner was amazing Sam." She thanks him, trying to stop an argument before it starts. She stands collecting our dirty dishes.

"I had time to perfect the recipe whilst on vacation," Sam remarks swigging his beer. "I also found an amazing pie shop."

The bitch is trying to win me over and, damn it, if it isn't working. Sam walks to the fridge, telling us he bought a cherry and apple pie, and he hopes we already have ice cream.

"I'm gonna pass," Lexie tells him, smiling lightly. "I've got a wicked headache, gonna take some aspirin and have an early night."

"You okay?" I ask her, concerned. Her brow is pulled in, she does look like she's in pain. Unless she's faking it so she has an excuse to leave.

"I'll be fine," she tells me with a quick smile. "Save me a slice, Winchester," she commands, pointing a warning finger in my general direction, without actually looking at me.

"No promises, sweetheart."

She doesn't acknowledge me. She calls goodnight, her voice breaking slightly on the last syllable. Then she's gone.

* * *

**Dean POV**

Pie eaten, and dishes cleaned, we go to the library. Sam is reading from a book that caught his attention, whilst I surf the net for any potential jobs. Sam reads a passage from the book he's reading, about an Egyptian god, in his childlike wonder voice. It's nice to see he hasn't lost his thirst for knowledge. It's nice to have him back.

"So you looking to get back on the horse?" I query casually.

"Yeah," he replies, "monsters don't take vacations remember." I shoot him an indignant glare. Sam chuckles, "unless I'm going to be in the way?"

"Of course not," I talk into my glass. I feel Sam's eyes on me as I walk to get a refill. "What exactly do you think you'd be in the way of?"

Sam does that 'I'm not stupid' snort he does, "Lexie?"

I play dumb because I'm not ready to discuss her with him. "What, you're back so Lexie is out? We've all hunted together before Sam. She not invited now?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

I return to the table with my drink and the decanter. Sam eyes me over the top of his book, he's not pissed at me which is the emotion I expect from him. He's wearing a small, all-knowing smirk. I continue my internet search without a word.

Sam closes his book, the heavy, hard back dropping to the table, echoing around the large room. "Dean, I'm good with you and Lexie. It's been like, two years, a lot has changed for both of us. I'm over it."

He's over it, until he's not. They've both said they're over each other, but what if being around one another stirs up old feelings? Then I'm the bad guy, I'm the asshat who screwed my brother's girl.

"It was just sex." does that make it worse or better? I've been using the girl my brother loves, or used to love, whatever.

Sam laughs without humour, "then don't let me stop you. Just maybe stay out of the communal areas, stick to the bedroom now I'm here."

I hide the small smirk by taking a drink, if only he knew what we'd done on the chair he's currently sat in. "It doesn't matter anyway. It's over between us," I shrug feigning indifference, shooting back my fourth double shot of burning liquor, "we called it quits."

"Maybe you shouldn't have," Sam scoffs, that annoying scratch in the back of his throat that implies he doesn't approve of my drinking. "I'm happy for you, both of you. You're good together."

"It wasn't like that," I explain, giving him a warning glare.

"Its over between us," he does air quotes, "but it was just sex right? So you're not dying to go check on her? And didn't get pissed earlier when she told me about the soldier on the werewolf case. The soldier I'm guessing she hooked up with?"

"Shut up."

Sam surrenders his large palms held high, "I'm just putting it out there, I'm totally good with it. I like it actually, just an observation but from what I can tell she's been good for you," he explains rationally. I keep my eyes on the computer screen, pretending not to listen but I hear every true word he speaks. "I know you and I know her. She's not someone who wants to change you. She accepts you for who you are, she won't try to fix you or get you to quit. She'll always have your back, she's in this with you all the way. So don't screw it up."

There's nothing left to screw up, we called it quits. I puff out an annoyed breath through my nose, "Leave it alone, Sammy."


	6. Chapter 6

**Dean POV**

I found a potential salt and burn case, an eight hour drive from the bunker. Sam and I called it a night so we can get a good night's rest. Only I can't sleep. I've been tossing and turning for hours and I've just watched the hours tick by.

I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Lexie wouldn't be in my bed, but I was still disappointed to see the vacant spot she normally occupied. The room is too quiet without the peaceful music of her breathing when she's in a deep slumber, the bed is too cold without her pressed against me.

The red digits of the clock tell me it's five fifteen, I might as well get up, my alarm is set for six anyway. I leave my room, closing the door quietly and start down the hall. I stop by Lexie's door. I should check on her, I haven't seen her since dinner.

I open the door quietly and pop my head inside. Her bed is a mess, sheets thrown back but she's not in it. I have a split second of panic thinking that she's taken off. Left in the middle of the night, because I didn't fight her on the whole taking a break.

I check the library, then the war room and the wave of unease is slowly threatening to turn to panic. I speed walk toward the kitchen, and find her sat in the dark, the light from the hallway the only ambience. She's sitting at the table eating peanut butter ice cream straight from the tub.

I slow my hasty approach, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded over my chest watching her. I'm not sure she's aware I'm there until she speaks, "you thought I'd split, huh?"

Okay, so she did notice my hasty walk to find her. She knows I thought she had left. I push off the frame walking slowly to sit beside her, "it crossed my mind."

She hands me the sweet treat and the spoon once she's licked it clean, without looking at me. She fiddles with the lid of the ice cream that sits on the table. "I told you it's a bad idea, but I said I'd stay. So, I'm not going anywhere," she promises.

That's the second time she's said that her staying is a bad thing, "why? Why is it a bad idea if you stay?"

She finally makes eye contact with me, but I wish she hadn't. Her normally happy, sweet, default expression is strained, she's hurting. It's written all over her face, it's so obvious it may as well be tattooed on her forehead.

Tears swim in her eyes when she questions me, "you really want me to pull that ripcord?"

No I don't. If she pulls that particular ripcord, the parachute of the shit show we've become will unravel. It will have so many holes in it we'll come crashing down. I want to stay in the freefall, where I know hitting the bottom will be the hardest part and I can avoid having frank and awkward conversations. So no I don't want her to pull it, I shake my head softly to tell her no.

She averts her eyes, sniffing back her tears she asks, "why you up so early anyway?"

"We found a job," I explain, eating a spoonful of ice cream, before handing it back. "Had to be up soon anyway."

It's not a total lie, it's a half truth.

Lexie focuses on her favourite treat, whilst I tell her about the case I found. She never once takes her gaze from the task of eating her ice cream, making slow and deliberate movements so she has more time to keep her eyes somewhere other than looking at me. "How's the headache?"

"Gone."

"So, not the reason you're up, eating ice cream in the dark?"

She chuckles with the silver spoon between her teeth, "I'm literally the embodiment of a chick flick I know," she flicks her eyes to me swiftly, "I'm eating my emotions."

I chortle, "is it helping?"

She shakes her head slowly, "nope." She pops the P loudly.

I nudge my shoulder into her, laughing, "what emotions can't possibly be subdued by your love of peanut butter?"

"Confusion, hurt, worry, panic, longing, self-pity." She pauses, dropping the now empty, failed attempt at comfort to the surface, shaking her head at the inanimate object, as if it's to blame for not making her feel better. "Maybe I should try whiskey."

Lexie swings around on the seat away from me, pops to her feet and walks out. I hesitate to follow her, we agreed to end our business arrangement. I should give her space, keep my distance.

We keep the good whiskey in the library. I find her sat hugging her legs, a tumbler of burning, amber liquor resting on her knee.

"Ice cream and whiskey, breakfast of champions," I joke, pouring myself a glass. I lean on the edge of the table next to her chair, staring down at the top of her bowed head.

I want to ask her what she's confused about, what's hurting her, what she's worried about, why she's panicking, what is she longing for? But I won't ask her, I'm afraid of what her answer will be, because what if the answer is me.

What if she's confused about me and Sam? Confused about what to do, now he's back?

What if she's hurting because I didn't disagree about calling it quits?

What if she's worried about me? I know she's too self sacrificing to be worrying about herself.

Her panicking because she thinks I'm going to change my mind and ask her to leave? Longing for what we had or for what her and Sam had?

Or what if it's the complete opposite of all that.

She observes her drink, swirling the liquid around the edges of the glass. I've been circling the what ifs too long so Lexie speaks up, "So Sam's jumping back in the deep end?"

"Yeah, I think he wants to keep himself busy, needs a distraction."

"Ah a hunters guide to getting over someone - violently killing something," she raises her glass as a toast and I clink my glass against hers. She swallows her drink in one loud gulp.

"Refill?"

She shakes her head standing up meeting my eyes for the first time, "no, I'm gonna go for a run, work off the breakfast of champions." She smiles cheekily, "you can make some actual breakfast, Princ-"

She cuts off the nickname and my heart stops, my breath hitches in my throat. It hurts more than I can explain. She stops herself from using the pet name she has for me, because it pains us both to know we can't have the same reaction we had before. The nickname she uses when she wants to piss me off, to get me going, because she knows I'll make her pay for it, the nickname she uses to flirt.

I drop my eyes, running a hand down my mouth and clear my throat, trying to work some saliva back in so I can make a witty comeback.

Lexie apologising beats me to the punch. "Sorry- I um" she steps around the chair, "sorry."

I watch her leave. Her head hangs lower than it usually does, and she's trying not to rush but her feet shuffle faster than her normal pace.

* * *

**Dean POV**

I fry up some bacon, mushrooms, scramble some eggs, and make toast. Lexie and Sam enter together, laughing at something I'm not a part of.

"Your legs are way longer, dork," Lexie laughs genuinely.

Sam's chuckle mirrors hers. "Not how it works, nerd."

The casual use of their long established nicknames makes my jaw flex angrily. She couldn't use mine earlier, she stopped herself from saying it.

She's slept with Sam too, but that hasn't changed their relationship in any way. They've confessed their love and broke each other's hearts, but it hasn't affected the way they interact. Their relationship is the same as it has always been, they are comfortable and familiar.

How is that fair? How is it fair that I was only sleeping with her, but our relationship has gone to shit? She can barely look at me.

Their teasing conversation continues and I'm jealous of the fond, joking smirk she wears for Sam. Her musical laugh joins his, and I look up from the sizzling bacon. Her laughter-crinkled eyes meet mine, and I feel like I've just walked out of pitch black room into the blinding mid-afternoon sun. I'm jealous of the way she's interacting with Sam, because I love her.

The realisation blind sides me and I have to pull my eyes from hers. I've always cared about her, but I convinced myself that's all it was, caring about her as a friend and a damn good fuck.

I've pulled my own ripcord and during the freefall I've been falling in love with her. I've been blind, I haven't seen what was happening when we weren't naked. I don't know when it became more than casual, but now I know it was more than sex.

Sam barking my name for the second time pulls me back to the room. "You want some help?"

"Sure yeah, grab the orange juice."

Two mouthfuls into our breakfast Lexie's phone rings. She fishes it from her pocket and her face lights up seeing the name on the screen.

"Hey, Tracy! How you doing baby girl? Yeah I'm good."

Tracy is a hunter. Sam and I have worked a couple jobs with her. Lexie and her spent a month on the road together whilst I was in Purgatory. They are around the same age, Tracy is just as hot as Lexie, but way more forward. Lexie has told me stories, they caused a lot of trouble as they blitzed from one job to the next.

"What do you need?" Lexie asks with a smile. "Okay yeah, give me a couple hours. Text me the address. My turn to buy the tequila." She ends the call smiling broadly. "Tracy needs help with a vamp nest."

"Okay cool. You need us too?" Sam queries.

"Nah it's only five we can manage."

Sam looks to me for agreement. I continue chewing a mouthful of bacon and just give an unfazed nod knowing what he's asking. "Me and Dean will handle the salt and burn," Sam offers.

Lexie's phone alerts her to a message, Tracy sending her the address, no doubt. She reads the message and jumps to her feet excitedly. She can't wait to get away, to have a reason to leave me.

* * *

**Dean POV**

Sam took over the driving a half hour ago. I wish he hadn't, my leg has started that aggravated, pent up energy dance that Lexie found infuriating.

I flip the radio on, change the station three times. I'm lost in the thought of Lexie and Tracy hunting together. Lexie told me stories about their adventures, the competitions they had, to see who could pick up the most men.

Lexie told Tracy it was her turn to buy the tequila, I've seen Lexie drunk on tequila. It's like an aphrodisiac for her. I hate the idea of her drunk, horny and full of post-hunt adrenaline in some back alley bar, some sleazy dickbag with his hands all over her. I hate it even more, knowing she'd let the dickbag have his hands all over her.

"Dude just call her already," Sam laughs at my fidgeting.

"Shut up."

It's been less than twelve hours. Lexie's job was closer to the bunker than our job so she should be with Tracy by now. But I'm not going to call her, like I'm checking up on her. I'll text her.

**Dean**: how's it going?

I don't have to wait long for a reply.

**Lexie**: located the nest. Just waiting for an opening. How's yours going?

They are staking out the nest. Sitting on it to check for patterns, make sure their intel is correct, ensure they have the numbers right, before they attack.

That's why she replied so fast, not because she's sitting staring at her phone waiting for my call like a love-struck teenager.

**Dean**: Slow. Sam is driving.

**Lexie**: haha it's called the speed limit Dean.

**Dean**: I see it as more of a suggestion than a limit.

**Lexie**: you annoyed Sam enough that he's got permanent bitch face yet?

**Dean**: not yet. Nights still young though.

**Lexie**: your leg doing that dumb dance yet?

I laugh out loud Sam throws me a knowing smirk. "Shut up."

**Dean**: it's not dumb.

**Lexie**: it's so dumb and super annoying. I've got second watch so I gotta get some sleep.

**Dean**: be careful.

**Lexie**: always. You too.

**Dean**: Take it easy on the tequila

**Lexie**: with Tracy around not likely.

I squeeze the phone in my hand, the plastic creaks in protest, as do the muscles in my jaw as I bite down on my teeth. Lexie and Tracy will make quick work of the vamps, then spend a night partying together. Lexie will be screwing some douchebag before the end of the day tomorrow. I'd bet money on it. I'd bet my _soul _on it.

* * *

**Two days later**

**Dean POV**

The salt and burn was easy, we're heading back to the bunker. Sam called Lexie to see if she needed help with the suck heads. She didn't, they had taken them out at sunrise and she was spending a night catching up with Tracy before heading home.

I'm tired, hungry and pissed. I can't get the image of Lexie fucking some average-looking dude out of my mind. Showing him all her little faces, making all her noises, screaming his name.

The slow ass driver in front is not helping my mood. "Move it dickbag!" I yell out the window over taking the speed limit following asshat.

Sam tells me off, "dude, take it easy."

"You take it easy."

The road sign informs me Stillwater is twenty miles away. Lexie is twenty miles away, I could be the guys whose name she's screaming. "You hungry? I'm hungry, let's eat." I don't wait for Sam's reply I pull off the highway heading into town.

Sam chuckles, "want me to ask her what bar she's in?"

"What? What're talking about?"

"You just happen to be hungry two hours after we ate dinner and just before we pass the last exit to the same town Lexie is in?"

"I'm always hungry and I didn't even realise-"

"Yeah okay dude, I forgot it was just sex."

"Give it a rest, Sammy."

We pass two bars, driving through town. Neither look right for what I know Lexie will be looking for, the bars are too up market. She'll want hard liquor, a pool table and military men. Military men are her thing 'because they're looking for a good time not a long time', just like she is. The third dive bar we pass is perfect. I pull in, taking the corner too fast, making Sam slam into the door.

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

* * *

**Dean POV**

I know Lexie saw us, when we entered. She's a hunter, we're always aware of our surroundings, have one eye on the door. She's at one of the three pool tables, at the back of the room, close to a fire exit, with a panoramic view. There's no way she didn't notice us come in, Sam's too big to go unnoticed and I froze momentarily when I saw her resting in the lap of the jarhead. There's no mistaking him as anything other than a jarhead with his crew cut, broad shoulders and too stiff posture.

Sam purposely chooses a booth in the back, far enough away that we can't hear their conversation, but close enough I can see every flirty smile, every time she touches his face, see every path his fingers take when he strokes his hand up the back of her shirt.

I swear if he touches her spot, the spot that is reserved for me, I will lose my shit. I'll walk over there and smash a pool cue in to his face.

Tracy is all over the jarhead's friend, pretending like she doesn't know how to play, so he's helping her.

A waitress takes a tray of drinks over to the foursome placing beers, shots of tequila, a shaker of salt and a glass containing four limes on to the table.

Tracy snatches the salt, her smile is devious as she winks at Lexie. Lexie's smile matches hers and I know I should look away. I'm not going to like what's about to happen but I can't turn away, it's like a car crash, I can't not watch.

Lexie pulls her hair over her shoulder exposing her neck. Tracy licks a line from Lexie's collarbone up her neck then pours a line of salt on to her wet skin. Lexie puts a lime in her mouth and then wiggles her finger at the marine, he doesn't need any more of an invitation. He happily jumps to his feet, holds Lexie's hips and licks the salt slowly and higher than he needs to. He holds Lexie's eyes as he shoots back the tequila and takes the lime from Lexie's mouth. He discards the lime quickly, choosing to kiss Lexie's lime coated lips instead.

When jarhead is finished, Lexie smiles flirtatiously and excuses herself to the bathroom. She catches my eye as she crosses the bar, jerking her head subtly toward the toilets. I wait a minute after she's disappeared through the door leading to the bathroom, before I follow her.

There's a small corridor separating the main bar from the toilets. I lean against the wall opposite the ladies waiting for Lexie to exit. She's going to ask why we're there? So why _are_ we there? Why are we in the same town as her when she told us the job is finished? I'm jealous and couldn't stand the thought of her with another man, is not an appropriate answer or the answer I'm willing to give.

Lexie exits the bathroom, looking at me, concern etched all over her face. "Everything okay? You catch another case?"

I give her a friendly smile, she's worried there's trouble brewing. She doesn't suspect it's because I'm a jealous dick that's realised he wants her but can't be with her and also doesn't want her with anyone else. "No, no, it's all good."

Lexie sighs relieved, and leans against the wall opposite me, her butt resting on her hands behind her back.

I make up a lame excuse, "Sam got hungry, his rabbit food dinner didn't fill him up. And you know me, I can always eat."

She nods suspiciously, she isn't buying my shitty excuse. I step closer to her and place a hand under her chin. I guide her head side to side to access her black eye and the scratch on the right side of her neck. I keep my hold on her, and she faces me eyes locked. I wet my lips, and she wriggles free of my hand, looking down at her feet.

She inhales deeply, shaking her head from side to side. Exhaling slowly, she tells me, "just say it Dean."

"Say what?"

Lexie looks at me, squaring her shoulders, standing straight, bracing for a fight. "Go ahead, say shit you don't mean. It's what you do to avoid saying the things you _actually_ feel, right?"

I go on the defensive, and it comes out more abrupt than I intended, "If you know me so well, why don't you tell me what I'm going to say."

She has a shit-eating grin, "Okay, you're going to say something to piss me off, to push me away. Then ask if I am going home with the douchebag? Answer is yes."

I shrug my shoulders, keep my expression flat, but it still sounds like an accusation, "guess I shouldn't be surprised, it's nothing you haven't been doing."

I have no right to say that to her, no right whatsoever. Regardless of rule number two of our arrangement - non exclusivity. I've been doing the same thing, I hooked up with a waitress less than three weeks ago. I have even less right to use the disgusted tone too.

"Have I though? Have I been doing that Dean?" she disputes my accusation staring me down. "What have you seen Dean, really? Me kiss a couple guys, walk out with them. You think they were just conveniently gone from the room by the time you got back? I ditched them as soon as we were out of your sight."

She pauses to let her words register, letting my mind reel back to all the times I've seen her with another guy. She's right, I've never actually seen her with someone. She's kissed a couple guys, flirted with them for sure. But other than that I've never seen any evidence of a hook up, no hickies, no condom wrappers in the trash. I'd go back to the motel room after my own one night stand, and she would be alone.

She nods, fully aware she's telling the truth. "I haven't been with anyone but you since your grandfather fell out of the closet."

I search her face, looking for any trace of a lie, any trace of deception. I find none. "It was part of the agreement, so why not?"

Her voice is barely above a whisper, "you know why not."

My breath catches in my throat, I do know why she hasn't been with anyone else. It's the same reason I purposely sought out other people. Because it was more than great sex for both of us, but neither of us were willing, able, or brave enough to admit it. I find my breath, "it was more than a business arrangement for you," I conclude. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I had you, even if it wasn't all of you, I had you, and it was enough." She sighs pitifully, "I knew, if I told you I felt something, you'd freak out, it would ruin it, so just being with you was enough. But the second Sam walked through that door, I knew it was gone, the moments I'd been living for with you were gone."

I want to tell her she's wrong. That we can have those moments still, we can continue our arrangement, but I would be lying. Sam has told me he's over her, she told me she's over Sam, but I don't believe them. I can't be with her, thinking that she's in love with my brother, or that he's in love with her.

Lexie averts her eyes from my remorseful glare. She waits two breaths in case I have any thing else to say, I don't. She turns to walk away, but I slam my hand against the wall blocking her path. I keep my arm locked caging her in. I tug her shoulder and push her flat against the wall.

This seems to be the new normal for us. I can't verbalise my thoughts, so I physically restrain her.

I don't know what I'm doing. I'm being unfair to her, I know I am. I'm being cruel to both of us, but when I'm around her, I get lost in her. Lost in the smell of her lemon shampoo, completely intoxicated by the lust in her eyes, drunk on the memories of our past.

I lower my head to hers, I inhale her air, her lips brush mine when she speaks, "please don't." She puts a halting hand on my chest, "please don't kiss me."

I brush my nose against hers, closing my eyes, "let me take you back to your motel?"

"No." She turns her head to the side to avoid my advancing lips.

I place a kiss on her cheek. "Why not?"

"Because you'll kiss me," she explains, "we'll go back to my motel." I brush her hair from her neck with my nose, and kiss her there. She continues, "and then we'll go home and you'll-"

Her voice is stern but she's not stopping me. I bit the bottom of her ear lobe gently and hear her sharp intake of breath. I know her, she likes it and I'm wearing her down.

"I'll what?" I whisper in her ear.

She puts more pressure on my chest, and I pull back but keep her in the prison of my arms. I can't keep forcing her to kiss me if she doesn't want to, no matter how much I want her. She takes a deep breath, "it's not what you will do, it's what you won't do."

Her tear-filled eyes keep mine in place, as her words rush out like a demon smoking out of a meat suit, fast and afraid, "you won't kiss me whilst we wait for the coffee to brew, or walk your fingers up my leg trying to distract me from researching. You won't join me in the shower, we won't go on a midnight ride for snacks cause we've worked up an appetite. You won't draw circles on my leg whilst we watch tv, or wipe my tears away when I wake from a nightmare. You won't run your fingers up my back whilst I make breakfast. You won't give me that knee-buckling, shit-eating grin when you catch me staring at you. You won't kiss me just because you feel like it. You won't let me sleep in your bed, or you won't let me fall asleep on your shoulder, and carry me to bed." she wipes a fallen tear and sniffs back more. "So no, Dean I'm not letting you take me back to my motel. I need some time to-"

She stops to take a breath, to stop herself from crying. She's rejecting me, and telling me she loves me in the same breath. It makes no sense, she shouldn't love me. It made sense that she loved Sam, he's the better man, the better man for her, so why would she love me?

Tracy bursts through the door leading from the bar. I push off the wall, no longer imprisoning Lexie.

"There you are!" Tracy grins widely, having located her partner in crime. She notices Lexie gazing up at the roof suppressing tears. "You okay?"

Lexie smiles softly, making eye contact with her, "Yeah, I'm good."

Tracy doesn't seem convinced, she side eyes me tight lipped as she tells Lexie, "the guys are ready to leave, you coming or-"

Lexie shakes her head quickly, "Yeah I'm coming with you, just need a minute."

Tracy looks back and forth between us, deciding whether she should leave her clearly already upset friend alone with me or not.

"I'm good Trac, I'll be out in a second." Lexie convinces her boldly. She pulls some cash from her back pocket, and hands it to Tracy. "Grab a bottle of tequila from the bar, and I'll meet you at the car."

Tracy takes the money with a satisfied smile and walks back into the bar. Lexie waits for the door close then looks at me, "Dean I-"

"Need to go, got it!" I'm angry because she's rejecting me, confused because she claims to love me, freaking out because, if she does love me, it's inevitable she's going to die or worse. I'm an asshole so I do the Dean Winchester special and push her away with an insult I know she'll probably never forgive me for. "Time to get under someone else to get over a Winchester? You did it with one, might as well go two for two. It's kind of your thing isn't it!"

She uses her right fist to uppercut me in the gut, and I crumble to the floor as the air escapes my lungs. Sam enters from the bar, as Lexie steps over my crumpled legs. He doesn't question what happened. He holds the door open for her as she charges past him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Two weeks later.**

**Dean POV**

I drive the Impala in to the bunker garage, and do a double take, seeing Lexie's Purple Ford Mustang in the spot that's been empty for the last two weeks. She's here, she's home.

She ignored my calls and I stopped trying after four days. I don't know what I would have said, had she answered anyway. She spoke to Sam whenever he called to check in on her, so I knew second hand she was alive at least. She called me two days ago, her name flashed on my caller i.d, and I almost dropped my phone in my haste to answer.

"_Hey Lex," I tried to sound casual but I couldn't mask the surprised tone._

"_Hey Dean," she did sound casual._

"_Are you okay? Where are you?" I could hear the sound of her engine, I knew she was driving._

"_It doesn't matter, look I was with Benny." she explains quickly, "Tony called me for an assist with some vamps. Benny was on to the same pack, trying to take them down. I had to make Tony believe Benny got the jump on me, so he could escape. I just wanted you to know what happened, in case word got back."_

"_Are you hurt?"_

"_I'm fine."_

_Something about her tone was off. "Lex-"_

"_I'm fine Dean. Benny is good too. This was just a professional courtesy. I gotta go."_

"_Lex wait-"_

_She did wait. I listened to her breathing whilst she waited for me to say something, 'come home', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm an asshole', 'can you forgive me', anything like that, but words failed me._

_She broke the silence laughing without a hint of humour, "good talk. Bye Dean."_

Lexie is somewhat of a legend, when it comes to suckheads. Hunters ask for her help, because she took so many down on her hunt for Zak, the vamp that killed her family. Her reputation precedes her, anyone with a vampire problem calls her for help. I've seen her in action with vampires, it's a thing of beauty, she's almost poetic in the way she moves.

The only vamp she's ever come across and hasn't killed, is Benny. Benny is a formidable fighter. He's a straight up savage, he only ever fights when he has to. But he fights to win, he fights to kill.

Lexie fights to survive. She's like me, she fights because she likes the dance of exchanging blows, the thrill of not knowing the outcome, but savouring the fiery adrenaline of knowing she can win, knowing she can deliver a death strike whenever she feels like it.

I shudder at the thought of the two of them in a fight, fake or otherwise.

It took me a couple hours after her call to realise it, but Lexie letting Benny go; pretending he got the better of her could potentially ruin her reputation. She helped Benny when she didn't have to. Called me to let me know Benny hadn't hurt her, so I wouldn't want to murder him when I heard the unofficial story on the grapevine. Even though I've hurt her, she's still looking out for me at a cost to herself.

Now she's back, she's in the bunker, what do I do? What do I say? Do I say anything? Do I pretend nothing happened? Go back to being friends? Do I want to _just_ be friends with her? Have I already screwed it up enough, that none of it is my choice anymore?

"Dean," Sam barks at me through my open window.

I didn't register him getting out of the car or getting his bag from the trunk, too lost in my own head. I switch off the engine but don't move.

"You gonna sit there all day, or go talk to her?"

I side eye Sam suspiciously, "did you know she was going to be here?"

He shakes his head innocently, "no, I swear. Haven't heard from her for a few days."

As soon as we enter the library I can smell her lemon shampoo, and the strong, sweet, floral perfume she wears. I inhale deeply and close my eyes, this is going to be torture. She's going to be so close yet so fucking far away, she may as well be on the moon. Sam and I head toward our bedrooms. The giant stops walking without warning. I almost collide into the back of him.

"What the hell-" my bitching is cut off when I see what caused him to stop.

Lexie is at a standstill ten feet from us, a rucksack on her back, two overflowing bags in her right hand. It's not the bags that stopped Sam in his tracks, it's Lexie's face. She's bruised, almost past the point of recognition. Barely a centimetre of clear skin showing. Her left eye is swollen half shut, there's a deep cut on her top lip, leading into her left nostril. If it weren't for her car in the garage, her curly hair and the tattoo on her hip poking out where her shirt has ridden up, I wouldn't believe it was her. She's hunched slightly, her left arm is crossed over her body, holding her right side just under her breast.

"You should see the other guy," she offers a joke, smiling. Her smile is replaced by a grimace, when it tugs at the bruises on her face.

Sam recovers first, racing to her side, and taking her bags from her. "What the hell happened?"

"Vampires," she explains, handing her bags over without protest.

That stops my heart. This can't have been Benny. This can't have been what she meant she had to do to make Tony believe Benny had got the jump on her. It's beyond excessive, a simple knock out punch would have been excessive, this is sadistic. Whoever did that to her wanted to inflict pain, wanted to kill her.

"Where are you going with all the bags?"

Sam's college education, courtesy of Mr Percy Waldon's stolen credit cards, clearly wasn't worth the money, because isn't it glaringly obvious? She came to get her things, she's leaving. Lexie looks at me with her good eye, all I can do is stare back, dumbstruck and pissed.

"I um," she clears her throat, standing a little taller, owning her decision, "I'm moving out."

"Not in this state you're not," Sam proclaims. "Are your ribs broken?"

"Sam I'm fine," she insists, sighing exasperated, "just take my bags to my car, and I'll be out of your way. I've got-"

"No." I interrupt, stepping to Sam, and taking one of Lexie's bags from him, "you're not leaving here injured. You need to heal."

"I'm gonna take some time off. Check into a motel whilst I-"

I halt her objection, holding a hand up. "You can sleep in your room, or I can chain you up in the dungeon, your call sweetheart," I smirk smugly, daring her to test me.

Lexie shrugs, "can you put a tv in the dungeon for me?" her playful tone makes a thousand butterflies erupt in my stomach. Damnit I'm a fucking chick flick!

Sam and I laugh loudly, Lexie stifles her own laugh after a second because it clearly causes her pain.

"Real funny, smartass," I joke, feeling my own smile meet my eyes, "come on, I'll race you to your room."

* * *

**Dean POV**

A few hours later, Lexie shuffles into the library, an icepack held to her ribs, creating a small wet patch on her white tank top. Sam was right, she has one broken rib. She's been in her room since we convinced her to stay.

"Hey," Sam greets her with a smile, "I was just coming to find you. What do you want for dinner? Injured persons choice, whatever your heart desires, I will go fetch."

I don't miss the quick flick of her eyes to me before she catches herself walking to pour herself a drink. Lexie grins thankfully at Sam, "Chinese food and ice cream please."

Sam chuckles rising to his feet, "peanut butter?"

"And salted caramel, please," she tells him, leaning against the wall, sipping her drink.

"You got it." Sam confirms, catching the keys to Baby, after I throw them to him.

I don't expect her to talk to me. I thought she'd make a run for it the second Sam split, but she doesn't. She leans against the wall, sipping her drink. I walk to the drinks table, and pour myself a whiskey. If I'm going to be in the same room as her, I need the liquid courage.

Lexie waits until the sound of the garage door closing stops reverberating. "Dean," she says softly. She points to her face when I glance at her, "this wasn't Benny."

"Gonna need a bit more than that, sweetheart." I request, pointing toward the table, asking her to join me.

She follows me over, but sits two chairs away, she does twist the chair so she's facing me, which, I guess, is something. "Tony had the wrong intel, and I was too focused-" she inhales a painful, shallow breath.

"Too focused on the hunters guide to getting over someone, wanting to violently kill something?" I can't help myself and I'm glad she's not in striking range, otherwise that would have cost me a punch in the arm.

She grins good-naturedly shrugging, "_you_ weren't around, so I settled for some suckheads."

We laugh wholeheartedly, and it feels good to genuinely laugh together, to know that we still can.

"I was being reckless," Lexie admits. "It was supposed to be two vamps, a couple, but they had a friend, plus Benny was there. Tony sliced the first guy, at the cost of being knocked out cold, Benny took the other guy on and I fought the skank. My leg was acting up already, spent too long driving and the bitch realised I had a weak spot. She used it, knocked me down, didn't let off, kept pounding me into the floor. Benny saved me. I told Tony Benny was the one to hurt me, but Benny ran when I told him we had backup."

"So I owe Benny another favour?"

She shakes her head, "I owe him," she states firmly, "he saved me, not you."

"Kinda the same thing, sweetheart."

She averts her eyes, finishing her whiskey in a large gulp. It is the same thing, Benny saved her which in turn saved me. If the vamp had finished the job, and the word on the grapevine had been Lexie was dead I'd have gone on a violent, guilt-ridden, reckless rampage, to find the vampire that killed her. So yeah Benny saving her, saved me too.

Lexie rises to her feet, grimacing, as it jolts her broken rib. She pauses, taking short, shallow breaths with her eyes closed, breathing through the pain.

I go to her side, asking if there's anything I can do. She opens her eyes, staring at my fingers supporting her elbow. I pull my hand back, as if she electrocuted me, putting it in the pocket of my jeans. "I'm sorry," I tell her genuinely.

She doesn't want me to touch her. I can't say I blame her for that, but it still stings. The two previous times I have touched her against her will. The last time in the bar, I held her hostage against a wall, and tried to kiss her, after she told me she felt something for me. I said nothing back, I just asked her to let me take her back to her motel. I tried to screw her, then insulted her. The time before that, in her bedroom, I stopped her from leaving by physically restraining her. Then again let my dick guide me, we pleasured each other, then she said we should cool off, and I didn't fight her on it.

Lexie's eyes well with tears, and I hate myself. She apologises to me, she apologises for moving away from me. I'm the fucking asshole, and she's saying sorry for hurting my feelings because she doesn't want me to touch her. "I'm sorry, Dean. I can't - I'm just not -"

I surrender, palms held high interrupting her, "Lex, I got it, no touching. You don't have to explain." Her smile is sympathetic and embarrassed. I try to lighten the mood, walking back to my seat, "rule number three, no hard feelings or grudges remember?"

She chuckles leaning her butt on the table behind her, "you're free of all rules now Dean, all deals and contracts are nil and void." I can feel her eyes on me, as I sip my drink. "You never were one for following the rules," she laughs genuinely, she wants to break the tension too.

I defend myself, smiling slyly, "not sure I broke _all _of them."

"That's true, you didn't let us get in between a job."

"True and I kept the non exclusive one cause hey, I'm me." I throwback the last of my whiskey.

"You didn't get jealous," she points out.

"Didn't I?" I question meeting her eyes, "why else would I have shown up at the bar in Stillwater?"

"I broke that one too," she confesses shyly, "I was just better at hiding it. Honestly, if Sam hadn't shown up, I probably would have shot the next chick you picked up."

We're both quiet for a beat. The tension is ripe, all the unspoken words hanging in the air in a thick fog.

"The _only_ girl I was ever happy to share you with was Baby," She chuckles clearing the fog.

I smile sincerely. Any woman who would want to date me, would have to understand that Baby is my baby and taking care of her is a priority. Lexie understood that.

How does she do that? I'm the asshole here, yet she's making me feel better about all the dickish things I did. _Why_ does she do that? Lexie shouldn't be the one reassuring me or making me feel better. I haven't even apologised to her for any of it.

"We didn't talk like adults either." I remember with a shrug, "well I guess you did, I just tried to fuck you."

She clears her throat, and changes the subject quickly, "you never treated me like a damsel in distress. So hey you followed three out of five, that ain't bad."

"Don't do that, don't try and make me feel better," I demand, standing up abruptly, walking to pour another drink. "I don't deserve it."

"And that's your problem Dean, you don't think you deserve anything good." she sighs irritably, "so when you get it you flip the self-sabotage switch."

I freeze, hearing her accurate assessment, the whiskey decanter tilted, ready to spill the liquid into my glass. I hate that she knows me so well, she's right, we had something good. The second it got complicated, Sam showing up, I became emotionally unavailable Dean, the same guy I was before. I don't want to be vulnerable, I can't afford to be vulnerable in this life. Sam and Lexie make for easy targets. I remind myself of the inevitable, if Lexie loves me, she has a short life expectancy, so I push her away again.

"Funny coming from the girl who fell for the emotionally unavailable guy." I throwback viciously, "that sounds a lot like self sabotage too."

Lexie laughs without humour, "and there it is, Dean Winchester at his finest. Knows I'm right, so tries to insult me or piss me off to push me away," she shakes her head, aggravation evident in her exhale.

"You're the one who left," I remind her sharply, "I asked you to stay, and you took off."

"Stay for what, Dean?" her volume raises, as her anger amps up. "What exactly did you want me to stay for?"

"ME!" I bellow back, "me, god damn it. I wanted you to stay for me!"

"But why?"

She wants me to say it. She wants me to confess that I'm in love with her. I can't do it. I won't do it to her. I won't condemn her to a short life because I love her.

She pierces my eyes with a confident stare, "I wasn't going to stay so you could try your hardest to make me hate you, Dean." She crosses the room, shaking her head indignantly at my silence. She stops at the top of the steps and looks back at me. "You know... I may be the girl that fell for the emotionally retarded guy, but at least I'm man enough to admit it."

* * *

**Dean POV**

It's almost two a.m., when I shuffle tiredly through the corridors seeking a glass of water. Sam, Lexie and I ate dinner together, then I ran off to my bedroom with a half bottle of Johnnie Walker. I put my headphones on, lay on my bed, drinking and drowning out my thoughts with some heavy rock.

I must have fallen asleep once the bottle was empty, because I woke up with a mouth like the Sahara and a hangover already setting in. I need a glass of water and to sleep it off.

"Yeah I figure, spend a couple weeks being waited on by my favourite dork," Lexie's voice carries down the hallway from the library, so I freeze. "heal enough that I don't look like I went twenty rounds with Rocky-"

"And lost," Sam adds chuckling.

Lexie giggles, and I can tell she's buzzed, on her way to being drunk. "Then hit the road. 'Cause monsters don't take vacations Sammy'," she mocks my voice terribly.

They share a laugh at my expense.

"You don't have to leave," Sam assures her exhaling glumly, "this is your home too."

"It is," she sighs regretfully, "but you and Dean need it more than I do."

My mission for water forgotten, I lean against the wall and listen in.

"I've had a home Sam, for the first nineteen years of my life. I had a family, a home, somewhere I felt safe, a place I could go back to when I needed comfort. You and Dean have never had that. I'm not going to hang around and make Dean uncomfortable. Did you see how fast he ate and ran? That's not fair, he shouldn't have to feel that way in his own home. He needs this place, so do you. Me being here will make Dean want to not be here so it's best I leave as soon as I'm able."

I slide down the wall, head in my hands. I'm literally running her out of her home, and making Sam lose someone he cares about. If she can't be around me, she can't be around Sam, we're sort of a package deal, so it means he will be losing his best friend too.

"Dean wouldn't feel so uncomfortable around you, if he just told you how he feels." Sam offers up sounding pissed.

"He doesn't need to tell me, Sam. I know how he feels." she sounds sad, "and that's what makes it harder. He cares about me, I know he does, but he's too hung up on the thought of thinking he's betraying you."

There's more to it than that, but she isn't completely wrong.

Sam sighed, "we've both told him we're not into each other anymore, why can't he see it?"

I sense Lexie's knowing smile when she replies, "Dean thinks we're both in denial. That our timing sucked, that's why you and I didn't work out. He doesn't understand we weren't in love with each other. We were in love with the idea of being in love."

Sam agrees, "we were both holding onto the past, happier times. You reminded me of my time with Jess, I reminded you of life before the hunting."

"Exactly. Dean doesn't see it that way, or he doesn't want to. No one hates Dean more than Dean, but he can't stand the thought of you hating him. Which he thinks you do because of me."

She's on a roll, she's right again.

"Are you saying it's my fault he won't admit he's in love with you?"

"Yep, it's all your fault, dork," Lexie chuckles loudly. Her tone switches to serious, "he's not in love with me, Sam. I was never anything more than a warm body and back up on a hunt to him."

"I don't believe that."

"I don't blame him for that. I know how he is, I knew he wouldn't be able to give me anything more than sex. I can usually separate sex and emotions, but I messed up. I made the first move on him, and I fell for him. It's all on me. I initiated everything."

That's true, she blew me in the car when I was being annoying. The memory brings a cheeky grin to my lips. But then I helped her with her bad leg, I wanted her just as much as she wanted me. I made her make the first move again but I can't honestly say if she hadn't, I wouldn't have taken another opportunity to make a move on her.

Sam wonders, "do you regret it?"

Lexie's sigh is despairingly heavy, "as shit as I feel right now, as fucked up as it all got, I don't regret a second of it. Except that I've lost him as a friend, I wish we could at least be friends. But I'd do it all again, in a heartbeat, just to have him back."

"So why can't you tell _him_ that? Maybe it would make him see things differently."

"It wouldn't make a difference. He thinks any kind of feelings, romantic or otherwise, automatically make him responsible for that person. Even if he was in love with me, he won't allow himself to be because he doesn't want to feel responsible for me."

"But how is that fair to you? You love him, but you can't be with him, so what you're just going to ignore how you feel?"

"What else can I do, Sam?" she takes a deep breath and I hear the shake as her voice quivers. "I can't force him to feel something he doesn't. So like I said, it's better if I'm not here, for both of us."

"And you're okay with that?"

"No, not at all, about any of it. It's killing me, all of it. He's literally down the hall, his jacket is right there, I can still smell him in the room and I-" there's no mistaking the tears in her voice. "I miss him. But I can't be here, be around him and not have him," she growls the tears away. "I'm not strong enough to deal with that shit. I can't sit back and watch him with other women, or pretend like I'm okay when I'm not."

"I'm sorry, Lex" Sam tells her glumly. "If I hadn't have come back you'd still be-"

"No, we wouldn't, Sam," she interrupts abruptly, her tone telling him off for even suggesting he's to blame for anything that's happened. "After the djinn case we worked with Garth. I was going to- I um- the fantasy she showed me, I was with Dean. Just like we had been, hunting, living here, but we were in love, he loved me and only me. I didn't have to share him, we were happy."

"And it freaked you out?"

Lexie chuckles, "it made me see I was in too deep already, I needed to take a step back. Needed a minute to sort my head out. You coming home just meant we both made the decision. Doesn't mean I'm not still pissed at him for being a douchebag, I wanna punch him-"

"Again."

"-and make him see whether he feels something or not, if something happens to me, he'll feel responsible regardless whose fault it is. But we'll have just missed all the fun bits in between."

Sam laughs whole-heartedly jesting, "you're _way_ too into him."

Lexie's tone is light, with a hint of defensiveness, "I like to think I'm just a very perceptive person."

"Only when it comes to my brother."

"Shut up," she grumbles.

"To lost loves," Sam toasts, before I hear their glasses clink together.

There's a short silence then Lexie declares, "I need more ice."

Crap she's too close, she's practically at the door when I hear her. I scramble to my feet but I'm not fast enough. She sees my movement in her peripheral vision as she descends the few steps and her stride falters. She recovers from her shock, continuing toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "it's impolite to eavesdrop, Winchester."

* * *

**Lexie POV**

The next night after my chat with Sam I make my way into the library, seeking either of the Winchesters, but hoping I find the youngest. I've spent most of the day in bed, sleeping off the whiskey I drank with Sam last night and avoiding Dean.

I know he heard everything I said to Sam, I know he heard me confess that I love him. Like he didn't already know, but he actually heard me say the words aloud. I panicked when I saw him, I walked as quickly as my broken rib would allow me, into the kitchen. I didn't expect him to follow, or confess his own feelings, but I was still heartbroken when he did neither. He was back in his room by the time I returned, and he wasn't around for breakfast, so I figure we're avoiding each other now.

Sam is sat at the map table, laptop open, scribbling notes on a pad beside it. He hears my dragging feet, and looks up with a bright joking smile, "finally dragged your lazy ass out of bed."

"I'm recuperating," I insist, pulling out the chair to sit beside him.

He chuckles, "you just like me being your very own personal slave."

I wink playfully at him, "there's that too. You make a good nurse."

"So get this," he starts enthusiastically.

Every time he says it, I have to stifle a giggle, it's like a tick he has or something. He can't help himself and, regardless of what it is he's talking about, he's always so invested. Sam explains the potential Ghoul case he's found in Indianapolis. I pull my chair round, closer to him, so I can see his computer screen.

Shortly into his explanation, the heavy bunker door opens. Dean stumbles in drunkenly telling the door to be quiet. He sees me and Sam over the railings as he descends the stairs, and tries to look sober. He puts his shoulders back, holds his head high and walks slowly down each step with a drunk swagger.

"Decided to stop hiding?" he asks glaring at me.

I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to let him pick a fight with me. He's drunk, really drunk, he's going to say or do something to piss me off, and I'm going to bite back. He gets under my skin, he knows which buttons to push, what nerves to put pressure on to hurt me. I will only be able to hold my tongue so long, and I don't want to fight.

He makes it to the bottom step without falling, and it seems that's as far as his drunken bow legs can take him. He leans against the rail, staring at me. "What's the matter? Lose your ability to speak? You couldn't shut up about me last night."

Don't take the bait, don't let him bother you. Sam jumps in for me, "Dean." he warns. He knows the game his brother is playing too. "Go sleep it off."

"I wasn't talking to you, Sammy." He saunters toward the table, "or is that it? You can only talk to Sam now?"

Asshole. He's taking a dig at me for talking to Sam, for telling Sam all the things I knew I couldn't say to him. All the things he heard me say, but has chosen to ignore.

"I'd talk if that's what you wanted, but it's not. You want a fight." I stand up from my chair, keeping my eyes on him.

" 'Cause you know me so well,"

"I do, and that's what bothers you so much." He's trying to think of a comeback, but he can't, he knows I'm right. I sneer smugly, cocking an eyebrow, "What's the matter, lose your ability to speak?"

It's my turn to be warned by the younger Winchester, "Lex don't."

My breathing has increased with the adrenaline pumping through me, my body preparing for a fight. It fucking hurts, my rib sends sharp daggers into my side and around my back. "Whatever. I'm done with all his bullshit," I growl and, as much as I don't want to, as much as I want to stand my ground, I have to sit down.

"So I'm bullshit now?" Dean snarls. "Funny, last night you were in love with all my bullshit."

I know what he's doing, he's pushing me away. I know he's trying to make me hate him, wants me to hate him so I don't love him. Right now, I love him but I really don't fucking _like _him. He knows he's struck a chord. He's hit the right nerve. His smile is so patronizing, I wish I were closer so I could slap it from his lips. But two can play the vicious words game. "What bothers you more, huh Dean? That I was talking about you to Sam, or that you heard every damn word, and you're too chicken shit to do anything about it."

He glares furiously at me. He can't deny he's scared because he knows I'll call him out. I'll make him prove he's not chicken. He turns on his heels and walks toward the stairs again.

"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asks after him.

"To have some fun."

I scoff, speaking under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear me, "hope she's worth it."

He spins round, his jacket flapping as he turns so quickly. He pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket, his cocksure grin makes me roll my eyes. "Oh she will be. 'Cause she'll understand the concept of a hook-up."

I guess the piece of paper has some chick's number written on it. I plaster on the biggest smile I can muster, make my tone as condescending as possible, "she sounds lovely. Have fun, Princess."

The use of his nickname deletes the cockiness and anger replaces it. "Screw you!" He spits.

I'm way too pleased with his change of attitude. I've pissed him off as much as he's pissed me off. I very maturely comment, "Been there, done that, have the plaid shirt to prove it."

Sam plays referee. "Stop it, both of you!"

Neither of us pay attention to him. We keep our eyes locked on the other, daring the other to back down. Dean is the one to break first, he turns and puts his foot on the first step. But my stubborn ass can't help but want to make sure I get the last word. "Make sure to leave before anyone catches feelings. Oh shit, I forgot you don't know _how_ to feel anything that isn't physical."

His stops dead in his tracks on the third step. He keeps his back turned, his head raised to look up at the roof. Sam is shaking his head, and I make the mistake of looking at him. His disapproving scowl tells me I've crossed a line, he's disappointed in me, and that stings. I stand abruptly, throwing my chair hard enough to make it topple over. I don't pick it up, I just storm back to my room faster than my broken rib likes. By the time I throw myself onto my bed, I'm crying from pain, frustration, hurt and indignant self-pity.


	8. Chapter 8

**A Few Weeks Later.**

**Dean POV**

I return from a supply run, carrying the bags through to the kitchen, to find Sam and Lexie cooking. Sam is making his chicken pasta, the recipe he 'perfected' whilst with Ameila. I can smell the delicious aroma of Lexie's toffee and cinnamon pie.

I put the bags on the table, and stand motionless, when Lexie turns from placing the pies in the oven, her face is back to normal. The fading bruises that were an off yellow colour this morning, are gone, there's no trace of the cut on her lip, that she was sure was going to leave a scar, she's standing straighter than I've seen in weeks, her ribs fixed.

Cas is back from Purgatory, and staying in the bunker with us. He doesn't remember how he got out, but it has to have something to do with Heaven. He's been resting, recharging his batteries, because he wasn't at full power.

"Cas is feeling better I see?" I ask, trying to sound happy. It's great if Cas is feeling better, it's good he healed Lexie, except it isn't, because now it means she will leave.

Lexie smiles broadly, starting to unpack the groceries, "yeah, just in time too, I was getting cabin fever."

Sam laughs at her enthusiasm, helping to empty the bags. "She's already found a job," he sneers down at his best friend, "she can't even stay for dinner."

"But I made a goodbye pie," she snarks back. She shrugs, a happy smile on her mouth. "I feel better than I've felt in weeks. I haven't driven my car in forever, I want to get out there."

I hear the undertones of 'I want to get away from Dean'. The last few weeks have been tough. We've given each other the silent treatment as much as we've been able to, only talking if absolutely necessary, and those conversations have been awkward, clipped, or strictly professional.

The last time we made eye contact was during our fight, which neither of us have apologised for.

Sam and I have been on four jobs, and each time we left, I had a knot in my stomach, thinking she would be gone by the time we got back. Then the relief of finding her still here, made me feel like shit. The guilt of wanting her around but not giving her what she wants, killed me every time.

I get that I was wrong about her and Sam. I understand now that they really are over each other, or they weren't ever truly in love, whatever. I believe it now, hearing their frank and honest conversation. The sincerity of their voices, when they didn't know I could hear them. They haven't lied to me to try to rid me of my guilt, they have told me the truth; they aren't _in_ love with one another.

But that makes the whole fucked up situation a million times worse, because now the only thing stopping me being with Lexie is me. The fear of losing her, because bad shit happens to the people I love. Love isn't a gift, Lexie being in love with me is a burden, it should be a gift. A gift to have the unbridled love of this amazing woman, it should make me feel alive, hopeful, happy, but it doesn't.

She's already a problem for me, she's already my Achilles' heel. If I give into her, if I let myself fall deeper in love with her, it's just an accident waiting to happen. It would just be a matter of time, before the inevitable happens and she dies or leaves me because she can't put up with my shit any more. It's better to not have her than lose her. Although I've already had her and lost her.

"I um," I swallow a large lump in my throat, dropping my gaze from Lexie's beautifully healed face, "I need - I forgot the whiskey."

"Dean," Sam calls my attention. He's standing holding two bottles of Johnnie Walker he just took out the bags.

I don't care. I need to leave, I need to get out. I'm not willing to stay and watch Lexie leave me. I twist to walk out.

"Dean wait." Lexie speaks softly, like she's talking to a scared, injured animal.

It's the first time she's directly addressed me, the first time in weeks she's spoken my name. It fills me with dread. I stop walking but I don't turn back to her.

"I know you're going to bail, and wait for Sam to tell you I'm gone, so," she inhales slowly, "I guess I should say this whilst I have the chance."

Sam excuses himself without a word, patting my shoulder reassuringly as he passes me, to leave us alone. I stand up straighter, squaring my shoulders, holding my head up high. Waiting for her to tell me I'm a jackass, I'm full of crap and she hates me, because why wouldn't she, after everything we've been through.

"Dean," she's asking me to turn around, but I can't. She waits two breaths, and continues talking to my back. "Okay. I need to say this, and I'm not expecting you to reply or whatever. I just need to make sure you know how I feel. So I don't have to keep wondering what would happen if I'd done this or said that, so here goes," she pauses for a few seconds. "I'll stay, I'll stay for you if that's what you want?"

"I do." I whisper honestly, exhaling to the ceiling.

She exhales shakily, "then you have to tell me you don't love me, and I'll stay."

My head shakes in disagreement without my permission. She will stay if I tell her I don't love her, because she doesn't want me to shut her out. She knows if she stays, I will push her away, maybe to a point of no return. The self sabotage switch is still firmly stuck on.

I won't say I love her, I can't tell her I don't love her either. I've never lied to her, I'm not about to start now. I close my eyes, inhale and exhale heavily, my shoulders heaving, she must be able to see it. I know her eyes are burning holes into my skull, willing me to look at her.

"Dean, I love you. I'm _in_ love with you," her voice is full of conviction, there's no denying her words, she's more than confident. "Every single part of you. Every broken part of you. Every piece of you that you think is poison, I love." She laughs poignantly, I catch the tears in her quivering voice. "I love that you're an idiot, laugh at your own dumb jokes. I love that your go in, guns blazing, headstrong fool. I love that you're a stubborn asshole. I love that you're a smug, petty bastard sometimes. I love that, beneath all that, you're a sensitive, caring, funny, sweet, chick-flick loving hero."

I huff out a disbelieving laugh. "You heard me," I hear the small smile on her lips, "I think you're a fucking hero. You've saved thousands of people. And yeah you've lost people too, but that's not all on you-"

I detect her come up behind me. If she touches me I'm going to bolt. I'll run, because that's what I have to do to keep her safe, to save her from me.

She takes a deep breath and I feel her exhale on the back of my neck, "-I know you don't believe it, but you're a good man. You're a fucking great man, an amazing brother, an excellent hunter."

Her voice comes from directly in front of me. I refuse to open my eyes, 'cause she will be right there. She'll be standing right there, tears making her eyes glisten, the tip of her nose red from suppressed sobs. She will be looking at me, and I don't know if I'll be strong enough to let her go.

She continues slowly, pronouncing every word carefully. "You deserve to be happy, you deserve to be loved. So if one day, you realise all that, when you figure that out-" I feel her hands on my arms, and I tense my entire body, "if you ever want to be in love, come find me."

She uses her hands as leverage to rise to her toes then her soft, feather light kiss caresses my cheek. She lingers, I bite my bottom lip to the point of drawing blood to stop myself from reaching out to her.

The coldness of her departed lips goes deeper than my skin, and she leaves one of her tears on my cheek. I feel the swoosh of wind as she turns on her heels and leaves, before I grant myself permission to open my eyes.

* * *

**Two Months Later.**

**Dean POV**

The Impala screeches to a stop in the bunker garage, the rubber no doubt leaving black tread marks on the vinyl floor, I brake so hard. Lexie's car is in its usual spot, she called Sam a few hours ago, frightened, angry and sobbing uncontrollably.

"_Lexie, calm down, what's wrong?" Sam's worried hue makes my stomach fall to my feet and push the accelerator to the floor, even though I don't know what direction I should be going in. Sam puts her on speaker phone. For a solid minute the only sound she makes is gasping breaths, she's having a panic attack._

_Sam tries to soothe her, giving her instructions, things to focus on, asking her where she is, is she hurt, but nothing works._

"_Lexie," I call her name loudly, "Lexie breathe. Whatever it is we can help. We'll work it out."_

_Her breathing regulates, but it takes her a few minutes to compose herself enough to be able to talk. "I'm at the bunker, I'm sorry I didn't know where else to go."_

"_It's fine," Sam assures her, "are you hurt?"_

"_No, I'm fi-" she stops herself from saying she's fine, because she is clearly far from it. "I need your help."_

"_Okay, we're about two hours away, what's going on?"_

"_Just get here, please. I'll explain everything."_

Sam and I jump out of the car, not bothering to collect our bags rushing to find Lexie. I'm not even worried about seeing her for the first time since she left, I just need to lay my eyes on her.

The library is in disarray, papers strewn across all the tables, boxes piled on chairs, several books open on different pages, Lexie's laptop sits open on a webpage I can't make out from across the room.

She is stood by the shelf reading from a large hardback book. She looks up, hearing our hasty entrance, there's a look of pure, severe determination behind her puffy, bloodshot eyes. I've never seen her look so full of purpose and agonising misery before.

Sam walks toward her, Lexie puts the book down on the small table beside her, and meets him halfway to embrace him in a tight hug. "Hey Sam," she exhales happily in his arms.

"What's going on?" Sam queries, stepping to the bank of tables to access the research she's so deeply in.

I see the fresh white dressing on her neck, and my feet carry me to her before my brain registers I'm moving. She bows her head allowing me to pull the bandage away exposing the day old vampire bite.

I bite down my anger, "please tell me that isn't what I think it is?"

Lexie reattaches the tape to her neck, covering the wound again, "come with me."

I follow Lexie's purposeful departure, and Sam scurries after us. She doesn't slow down until she gets to the dungeon. She pulls the shelves back, then stands to the side, giving Sam and I a full view.

Chained to the chair is a dark curly haired, late twenties, blue eyed, blood stained lips vampire. Even if I hadn't seen photos, there's no mistaking the resemblance, he has Lexie's eyes, the same curl to his hair, the identical slope to his nose, it's her brother.

"Ah the Winchesters, nice to meet you, I'm Tyler," Tyler arrogantly cocks a sarcastic eyebrow. "I heard my sister was running around with you two. Never quite believed it though." He ignores me and Sam, tilting his head to see Lexie, half concealed by the shelves. "Come on. Let me out of here, let me go. You know you want to Lexie Luthor," he sounds endearing using what I assume is his nickname for her.

Lexie inhales, holding her breath as she exits quickly. Sam pushes the shelves back into place. We follow Lexie back to the library, as her brother's arguments to be set free fade with every step.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam asks, watching Lexie shoot back a shot of whiskey, pouring herself another, and doing the same. "I thought-"

"My whole family were dead. Join the party dude. I guess I didn't count the bodies at the mass cremation I had to have." She fills her glass three quarters full, bringing the bottle with her to the table. "I was with Tracy and Mac on a banshee case. I found Tyler in a bar in Portland, I couldn't- I wouldn't kill him. I pumped him full of dead man's blood, and threw him in my trunk. I was half way here, before I knew where I was going."

I try to mask my fury, and not make my question sound like an accusation, but I don't succeed. "Please tell me you didn't let him feed on you."

"I didn't exactly have time to stop and kill a deer whilst driving cross country, with my vampire brother in my trunk!" she snaps at me. "I had to keep him alive."

"He has your scent now, for life, that's it."

"It doesn't matter," she wipes the whiskey from her lips. "I'm going to cure him."

That's why she bought him here, she thinks she can cure him. She thinks the Men Of Letters hold the answer.

"Lex, you can't," Sam reminds her, "you need the blood of his maker, you killed Zak and even if you hadn't Tyler's had human blood-"

"I KNOW THAT!" she yells aggressively. She takes a long pull on her drink, reigning in her emotions. "I know all of that Sam. But that's just one cure we know of, there could be another. Something in one of these thousand books," she motions around the room meeting Sam's eyes. She drops her gaze staring at her glass, "there has to be."

"And if there isn't?" I ask her the inevitable.

"Then I'll kill him," she gulps the rest of her drink hungrily, dripping some down her chin. She wipes it with the back of her hand looking from me to Sam, "help me, please. So I don't have to kill my brother."

* * *

**Dean POV**

Lexie continued her research, whilst Sam and I unpacked and took turns to shower. I return from grabbing Chinese takeout and some animal blood from a local butcher. Sam is on his laptop, Lexie reading a book, curled up on a chair.

Sam pushes his computer aside to eat his dinner, but Lexie makes no attempt to move. I pull the book from her grasp, she makes a grab for it, but I hold it up out of her reach. She glares at me annoyed. I stare her down, "you need to eat."

"I can eat and read at the same time," she insists. "It's called multitasking."

"You need to take a break."

She rolls her eyes, but gets up, and joins us at the larger table. She basically inhales the food, barely chews each mouthful, before returning to the armchair to continue reading the book I took from her.

A few hours later, Sam hands Lexie and I a fresh cup of coffee. Lexie laces hers with the amber nectar for the sixth time since dinner. "That really such a good idea?" I question.

"Nope, it's a great idea." she clips, not taking her eyes from the book.

I decide to let it go. I'm the last person who should be lecturing anyone on their alcohol consumption, especially during a family crisis.

Lexie rolls her neck, massaging her left shoulder, grimacing as she kneads the knots. She looks exhausted. She rolls her shoulders, and I hear the pop of air between her tired bones across the room.

"When was the last time you slept?" I query. Although it's abundantly clear it's been at least a day, maybe more. She chooses to ignore me, sipping her whiskey tainted coffee. "When was the last time you showered?"

Her stubborn ass gets up and walks to the shelf to find another book, her fingers skimming the tops as she reads the titles.

"Lexie I'm talking to you." I bark, looking at her back.

"I heard you, and blatantly ignored you, take a hint."

"Real mature, sweetheart."

"Lay off Dean."

Sam calling my name as a warning alerts Lexie to my movement, and she spins around empty handed to face me, as I step to her. "I'm not going to watch you burn yourself out."

"So don't watch me, _Mom_" she sasses through gritted teeth.

I lift my brow at her questioning her bratty attitude, taking a step closer to her, "you want to try that again without the attitude?"

Her expression matches mine, "you want to back off? Or do I need to knock you on your ass for the third time?"

The smirk dances on my lips before I can stop it. She has knocked me on my ass twice, at Rufus's cabin when I escaped Purgatory, and back in the bar in Stillwater. "I'd like to see you try," I challenge cockily.

She rolls her eyes, my arrogance making her forget about the pending argument she was going to start. She takes a step to the left away from me. "Chick-" she kicks her foot into the back of my knees and I buckle to the floor before I utter the last syllable.

Sam's joyful laughter fills the room. Lexie doesn't wait for my knees to hit the floor, she grabs my right wrist. Before she can twist my arm up my back, I use her own momentum to pull her into me, kicking her legs from under her simultaneously. She lands on top of me, I roll so I'm straddling her, squeezing my knees against her hips, my hands pinning her wrists to the floor.

"Nice try," I joke breathlessly as she wriggles underneath me.

Jokes on me, because she stares up at me, licks her lips, the sultry tone to her voice sends a shiver through me when she asks, "now you've got me what are you going to do with me?"

"You guys need a minute?" Sam asks childishly.

"No," I reply at the same time Lexie says "yes."

They both laugh at me. She chews her bottom lip, and smirks flirtatiously, "now who's the chicken, Princess?"

Crap! I'm glad I'm already on my knees, because I swear the way she called me Princess, if I had been standing up, my legs would have been shaky. It's been so long since she's called me that, so long since I heard it, especially in the old, flirty way she used to say it. Her voice is like an old song coming on the radio that I had forgotten about but absolutely love.

"If you're too chicken to do anything," she begins cheekily, "let me up."

I do as she asks, and offer my hand to help her to her feet, which she accepts. She dusts herself off unnecessarily, and goes back to searching for the book she needs. "Take a break Lex," I reminded her of our original argument.

"I'm fine Dean," she sighs frustrated.

I spin her around, using her wrist and throw her over my shoulder. She grumbles lightly, more playfully than seriously, she knows I won't back down. I march her through the corridors to the shower room.

"If you won't sleep, you can at least take an hour off to shower." I walk us both fully clothed into the first cubicle.

"Dean Winchester, I swear if you turn-"

I turn on the water, the cold flush hitting her back, makes her shriek. The warm water follows, and I slide her down to her feet, she sways, drunker than I thought. I keep my hands on the sides of her arms to steady her. She looks up at me, water rushing down her hair, plastering it to her face, making her squint, "you're an asshole."

I don't have a comeback. The heat of her palm, flat against the wet shirt clinging to my chest, has all kinds of wrong thoughts running through my head. We're so close, I can feel her stomach brush against me, as she takes deep breaths to help the shock of the cold water subside.

Lexie slides her hand down my chest, and her other hand joins the party to run both of her palms up under my t-shirt, her eyes never leave mine. "Kiss me?"

I shake my head, and let out a shaky breath, "I can't."

I can't kiss her. If I do I know I won't be able to stop myself from taking it further, and it's not what she needs right now. She doesn't need my insecure, indecisive ass complicating her already complicated life.

Her eyes and hands fall, she turns her back to me, "then leave."

"I can't."

I can't kiss her, but I can't leave her either. More importantly, I don't want to leave her. She's here, she's right in front of me, I've missed her. I've longed to touch her, to hear her voice, and now she's here, I can't let her go.

I lift her wet shirt up, she raises her arms letting me pull it over her head. I'm not undressing her to fuck her, she needs to take a shower, nothing more. But if she's going to allow me to touch her, I'm not going to stop.

"I'm not going to let you do something we'll both regret. Not like this." I explain unclasping her bra, she pulls the soaking wet garment down her arms and tosses it aside. "Not when you're drunk. Not because you want to feel something other than miserable."

"I'm not drunk," she insists as I slide my arms around the waistband of her jeans, "you want me to take a sobriety test?"

I chuckle my mouth against her shoulder, watching my fingers unfasten her jeans through the valley of her breasts, "but you are miserable."

"Isn't that what sex is for? To make you feel better."

My fingers halt their task. Is she saying she's over me, she just wants to sleep with me? Back to our no strings attached arrangement? "So you just want to screw me again?"

"I never stopped wanting to screw you."

I let go of her, standing up straight, "Not what I'm asking and you know it. What about tomorrow? You just going to walk away again, leave me?"

She turns to face me, anger creasing her features, "fuck tomorrow, I'm tired of worrying about tomorrow. And for the record, you never stopped me from walking away."

"Maybe I should have," I admit sadly, "maybe I should have stopped you."

We stared at one another, I can see her mind working overtime. All the thoughts racing through her head. All the feelings I've been trying to leave at the bottom of a bottle, come racing to the surface. If I keep talking, I'm going to say something that would be just as bad as kissing her, she doesn't need any more shit to deal with right now.

I'm silent, and it proves too much for her drunk brain to comprehend, so she gets angry.

"Don't 'maybe' me Dean," she spits spitefully, shoving at my chest. "I'm tired of being broken hearted over you, so it stops, today, right _fucking_ now!" Her eyes flash with determination, "so you either fuck me, admit you love me, or get out."

I know she's drunk, lacking sleep, running on caffeine and is completely devastated about her brother. I bite my tongue from the tirade of abuse I want to throwback in my own pitiful defence. She calls me a coward as I walk away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Two days later.**

**Dean POV**

We're two days deep into researching a cure. We've all called in favours we're owed for information, Lexie has asked Benny to track down the alpha, she thinks using the alpha's blood could be a cure too. Sam has talked to a Professor in some university, who claimed to be an expert on vampirism, yet we have nothing.

Sam found a spell to make the equivalent of a devil's trap, but for vampires. It seemed to help Lexie relax a little, to not have to keep Tyler chained up and give him a bed to sleep on in the dungeon. It also means we can pass him bags of animal blood from a safe distance, instead of having to stand close by to feed him.

Lexie hasn't slept longer than three hours a night. She is hardly eating, and it took Sam threatening to lock her in a room until she dried out, to stop her from lacing her every cup of coffee with whiskey. I came close to throwing a cold bucket of water over her to get her to take a shower yesterday, before she finally gave in.

Jody Mills called an hour ago, she has a job for us. Four people have gone missing, and witnesses have said they saw the abductor lift an SUV whilst glowing blue, sounds like a dragon.

Sam and I packed a bag and met in the war room on our way to the garage. Both of us stopped dead in our tracks, looking at the other for explanation. Both of us assuming the other one would be staying with Lexie.

"Dude we can't leave her here without supervision," I tell Sam, standing in the war room looking through to Lexie in the library.

"Jody needs help, we can't not go."

"I know, but one of us needs to stay with her," I suggest, smiling hopefully at my brother.

"And by one of us you mean me?"

"Come on, Sammy. You're better at research and she needs her friend right now."

Sam scoffs, "so it has nothing to do with the fact that you're scared to be alone with her?"

I point a warning finger at him, "I am not scared."

"Okay, we'll settle this the old-fashioned way."

"Fine. Two out of three." We slam our fists into our palms three times. I go scissors, Sam goes rock - damnit. Sam laughs knowingly, and we go again, I go rock, Sam goes paper.

"Son of a bitch!"

Sam laughs comically, as we both walk into the library, to Lexie. "Hey Lex," Sam begins.

Lexie takes a deep breath, looking up from the book resting on her knees, "Jody needs help, neither of you trust me to leave me without supervision, Dean is scared to be alone with me but sucks at rock, paper, scissors, did I miss anything?" she finishes with a cocky smile.

Sam shakes his head laughing loudly, "nope you didn't miss a thing."

I flash her a sneer, before sitting down.

"You two should really learn how to use your inside voices," Lexie smiles sarcastically, flicking her eyes to me, before she goes back to her book, "sound really carries in this place."

"For the record, I'm not scared," I tell her unconvincingly.

She chuckles, "don't worry Princess, I'll eat my greens, sleep and shower. I promise to be on my best behaviour."

Lexie has called me Princess eleven times in three days, not that I'm counting. After she told me she was going to stop being broken hearted, she has done exactly that. If it's an act it's a damn good one, because she hasn't been moping, or avoiding me. She's been flippant with her comments, flirting, and friendly. She's been casual with her touches, and even suggested that Sam and I take a night off, 'go to a bar, pick up some chicks.' - we didn't.

It feels like old times, before things got so screwed up between us. Back when it was just the two of us in the bunker, when it was fun to be around her. Her fresh attitude has put me at ease, I don't feel like I have to walk on eggshells or watch what I say in case I inadvertently upset her.

I like it and despise it at the same time.

My skin prickles with electricity every time she touches me casually, or her fingers brush mine when she passes me something. I can hardly sleep knowing she's close by, but nowhere near me. Every time she uses that ridiculous nickname, it sends a pulse through me that goes straight to my dick, thinking of all the times I've made her scream my _actual _name for using it.

Sam kisses her cheek to say goodbye, and pats my shoulder, wishing me luck as he passes by. I call him a bitch, and he shoots back jerk at me as he disappears into the garage.

The sound of Baby fades as Sam leaves, and once it's completely gone, Lexie says my name softly. I look up from the book I'm reading. She has a friendly, shy grin pulling her lips back, "I owe you an apology."

"What for? You drink all my whiskey?"

She chuckles sweetly, "not for that." She heaves a deep breath. "I'm sorry for the whole coward thing. You were right to walk away."

"Excuse me?" I feign deafness pushing my ear out closer to her, "I was what now?"

She giggles shaking her head, "you were right and I'm sorry, I was a whiny brat. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive, sweetheart."

She rises from her chair and ambles toward me. She leans in and kisses my cheek tenderly. "Either way I'm sorry."

I stare up at her, smiling slightly. Damn I've missed her. "Whilst we're on the subject of apologises. I'm sorry for how screwed up everything got."

She counters my apology, "I'm sorry I keep barging back into your life, when I know I should stay away."

"I never asked you to stay away."

She nods, smiling sheepishly, "I know, but I need to, for me. I get it now. You don't love me, at least not the way I want you to."

I open my mouth to tell her, I don't know what I would tell her, but she cuts me off with a finger on my lips. "I know you care about me. But I was the fool who let my emotions take over. That's not your fault, that's my problem to deal with. I'm _not_ sorry I fell for you. Apologising for that, would be admitting it was a mistake, and I don't see it like that."

I dip my head, looking at the book again. If she keeps looking at me like that, with her adoring, confident, flirty, crystal aqua eyes I'm going to kiss her. She believes I don't love her, which is what I wanted right? She should be bitter, mad at me but she's not. She's always so confident, she knows her own mind, unapologetically herself and never afraid to show it.

She sits on the edge of the table, mistaking my silence for agreement she continues, "I'm sorry we're not friends anymore. I miss the fun we had, we lost so much more than just the amazing sex," she ponders aloud, chuckling.

I get that whole heartedly. Losing her, her not being around has been almost unbearable at times, but not having her as a friend is freaking hard. Only when she wasn't someone I could talk to, confide in, talk things through with, did I realise how much I valued her as a friend too.

"You haven't lost me Lex, I'm right here." I advise, glancing up at her. "Just a phone call away, whatever you need."

She chews the corner of her lower lip, eyebrows raised as high as they can go, "whatever I need?"

I laugh from my core, "am I not supposed to be the one lowering the tone?"

She shrugs her shoulders comically, "I didn't want it to get too chick flicky."

The music of our laughter surrounds us. It naturally dies off and she asks seriously, "maybe we can try and be friends again? Minus the benefits?"

I puff a laugh out, "I'd like that."

* * *

**Dean POV**

Not long after our agreement to try and be friends, Lexie tried to stifle an eye-watering yawn, without success, so I leave her reading to make us both a coffee. When I return to the library, she's not there. She's probably feeding Tyler, so I put the mugs down, and go directly to the dungeon.

Me and Sam have made sure Lexie hasn't been alone with Tyler. We don't want him to manipulate her into setting him free, upsetting her, or her giving into his pleads to have some of her blood again.

Tyler has played nice so far. He hasn't been a dick or angry, showed no signs of violence toward her, except throwing empty blood bags at her. He has put up a good front, not let his predicament get to him, but I know being cooped up with his little sister calling the shots is starting to wear thin.

Lexie is leaning on the open shelves, staring at Tyler's back who is ravenously drinking the cows blood she has given him. He finishes it quickly and throws the empty bag at Lexie's feet. "It tastes like wet dog," Tyler spits his complaint toward Lexie.

"Get used to it," she advises.

"Come on Lexie Luthor, I'm your big brother." He whines like a small child not getting their own way, "just give me a little of your blood."

"Not going to happen," I bark from behind Lexie. I startle her, she's too focused on her brother to pay attention to her surroundings.

"Does douche nuts speak for you now?" Tyler asks ignoring me gazing at Lexie.

"You can survive on cows blood," she tells him, arms folded across her chest.

"I don't want to just survive," Tyler growls furiously. "How long are you going to keep me locked up in here, whilst you look for some non-existent cure?"

"As long as it takes."

"Ever stop to think if I actually want to be cured or not?" Tyler confesses, "I like what I am Lex. I like the power I have, the strength, the speed. I feel amazing when I'm not being starved or forced to chug down cows blood"

I walk to Lexie, tugging her shoulder, telling her we should leave him alone, she doesn't need to hear this. I see the menace dance across Tyler's face, he's done with playing nice.

"What's the matter Winchester?" he sneers, "do I remind you of what you could have become? I'll turn you if you want."

"Tyler, shut up," she chides, grinding her teeth.

"I could turn you both," he offers with a malicious smile, "I see the way you look at her, Winchester. Lexie Luthor, you know we mate for life, right?"

"I do know that," she confesses.

"So what, you don't want him to be a vampire?" he cackles evilly, "don't want to add him to the long list of people who have died because of you? Mom, Dad, Cody, Aunt Mary, Uncle Hank, Jenny, Laura, Uncle Mike, Aunt Shelia-"

"Stop-"

"Stop what?" Tyler bellows, "Zak killed everyone because of you, and now you want to take away the gift he gave me because you think I need saving?"

I've heard enough, Lexie has heard enough. I pull her out of the way, so I can close the door. She doesn't put up a fight, she leaves willingly.

* * *

**Dean POV**

Two nights later, I bring tacos back to the bunker for dinner. Lexie had a craving, and if she is willing to eat, I am not going to deny her anything. She wanted to eat whilst working again. I threatened to physically carry her to the kitchen, she winked, and told me I could carry her to the bedroom. I rolled my eyes, and bit down the temptation to accept her offer.

I reminded her we're friends again, and what kind of friend would she be if she made me eat alone? Her eye roll practically touched her hair line, but she followed me to the kitchen.

I sit opposite her at the table, and study her whilst she eats. Her eyes are sunken, dark circles underneath, she's burning herself out. She's exhausted and she's going to make herself ill. She needs to take a break that's longer than a few hours.

"What do you say we take a break after dinner, and watch some Scooby Doo?"

She knows it's one of my favourites. We used to watch it together regularly, only she'd watch me. She said she liked the way it made me laugh. She rolls her eyes at me not even dignifying my suggestion with a response. I sigh loudly, "Okay, how about one of your Marvel movies?"

She stares at me in disbelief, "I don't have time to watch movies, Dean."

"Yes you do, Tyler isn't going anywhere. You need to take a break."

She groans irritably, rising, and getting two beers from the fridge. Before she can tell me she's fine, which, I know she will I speak, "come on, it will be like old times."

She smirks, giggling, sitting back on her seat, "you mean we'll put a movie on, and you'll have me naked before the end of the first scene?"

I do the three finger scouts honour salute, "I promise to be a total gentleman."

She pouts dramatically, "and where's the fun in that?"

I roll my eyes to mask the desire to throw myself across the table and bite her lip. "I'll make you a deal. Watch one whole movie, and I won't bug you about taking a break for another two days."

"Three days," she bargains.

I counter offer her, "two movies, you sleep without setting an alarm, and no bugging for three days."

Lexie smiles mischievously holding her hand out to seal the deal, "a Marvel and a Casa Erotica movie it is." She grins around a mouthful of taco, and I slap her hand playfully away.

* * *

**Dean POV**

I'm nervous whilst we tidy up after dinner, I didn't think the whole movie thing through. It means sitting together on one of our beds, normally mine, to watch it. How am I going to be so close to her for a solid few hours, in the same bed I've been buried in her, and stop myself from thinking about it. I'm not going to back out, she needs to rest, but I can already feel my body tensing.

I carry the beers and popcorn, and without discussing it, we both go into my room. Lexie kicks off her shoes by the door, then groans dreamily, as she crawls on all fours slowly to the top of the bed. "Oh my god," she sighs contentedly, running her hands over the cotton sheets, "I've missed this mattress." she stops at the top, and bounces into the bed a few times, testing the elasticity.

I've missed seeing her ass in her tight jeans crawl up my bed. Yep this was a real stupid idea, well done Dean!

She sprawls out like a starfish on her stomach squeezes her eyes shut, "it's like lying on a cloud."

I place the beers, popcorn and remote controls on the nightstand, and gaze down at her, "make some room on the cloud, sweetheart."

"Nuh uh," her answer is muffled by her squished lips against the pillow. She shakes her head subtly, her eyes still closed.

I get a wicked idea, seeing her shirt has rode up exposing the bottom of her back. I grab one of the cold beverages and place it on her skin. She squeals, pulling her shirt down to escape the assault of the icy bottle. I laugh comically, this girl who can take down monsters without a problem but turns into a shrieking damsel the second something cold touches her, or there's a spider in the vicinity.

"You are not funny," she pouts, rolling over to sit up, making room for me.

"I'm hilarious." I disagree, sitting beside her.

Twenty minutes into Iron Man 3, I've finished my beer and the popcorn is gone. I have nothing to distract me. Lexie and I are sitting beside each other, our backs against the headboard. I'm on the very edge of the bed, if I move even a millimeter, I'd have to put a foot on the floor to stop myself from falling off.

I can't focus on the movie on the screen, because my mind is playing the Dean and Lexie Casa Erotica movie. The movie reel in my head is replaying all the times I've had Lexie naked in my bed. All the ways she's purred my name, reminiscing the times she's come undone beneath me, and she's made me moan her name. The techniques used to tease me, until she had me begging her to let me bury myself deep inside of her. All the conversations we've had whilst she lay pressed into me, tracing the freckles on my skin with her nails, the times she's woke me from a nightmare, and then just lay with me whilst she talked about crap to take my mind off it.

Lexie twists to put her empty beer bottle on the nightstand, and I tense involuntarily when her arm brushes mine.

"Dean, you're wound tighter than a windup toy." She chuckles sitting back turning her head to look at me, "if this is making you uncomfortable, I'll move. Do you want me to move?"

"No." It's a lie I do want her to move, I want her to move closer. "Yes," I correct myself. I see the hurt in her eyes, before she blinks it away. I lift my arm inviting her in. She hesitates for half a second, before shuffling down the bed, tucking herself into my side, resting her head on my chest, and her hand on my stomach.

Five minutes later, I feel her head drop as she falls asleep. She jerks back up, the movement having woke her. I shuffle down, making Lexie pull away from me. I reposition myself so I'm lying flat, and I tap my chest inviting her back. "Sleep," I tell her.

She doesn't have the energy to tell me no. She returns her head to my chest and her hand to my stomach, and less than a minute later, she's lightly snoring. I kiss her head and inhale her all too familiar scent.

Damn I've missed her. I've yearned for her to be in my arms like she is now, but it's not until this moment I realise how much I've craved it, how much I've needed it.

I've had a dull ache in my chest since she's been gone. I'm only aware of the ache's existence now it's gone. The ache has disappeared, my craving has been satisfied, because I'm holding her. We have all our clothes on, none of our skin is touching, yet I'm content, my hunger has been satisfied by her simply being next to me.

My breath catches in my throat, as my brain catches up to my heart, I'm home. Lexie is next to me, wrapped around me, in my bed. She's back where she belongs, where we both belong, home is wherever we are together. She is my haven.

I want her to stay, not just in the bunker, but in my bed, our bed. I want her to stay with me. She deserves better than me, more than what I can give her, but I'm going to try and be deserving of her.

I'm going to ask her to stay with me, to let me make it right. I don't know what's going to happen, I don't know if I'll let the fear eat me up again. I do know I'm tired of missing her, sick of being miserable without her. I don't know if I can fix us, if we can make this work, but I want to try.

Without a shadow of a doubt, this is what I want. Consequences be damned, she is what I want, and, as long as she will let me, I'm going to show her how sorry I am for all the time I've wasted.

But for now, I'm going to let her sleep.

* * *

**Dean POV**

I've been up a couple hours, the absence of Lexie's body pressed against mine woke me when she rolled away from me. I figured Lexie wouldn't sleep much longer, but she's slept almost thirteen hours. I know if I don't wake her, she will be pissed at me for letting her sleep so long. I hover next to her, she's sleeping soundly. I waft the piping hot mug of coffee under her nose, but she doesn't stir.

I brush her hair from her face gently, and it pains me to do it, but I call her name softly. "Lexie, baby, wake up."

Her eyes flutter open and closed, then she sits bolt upright, knowing she's been asleep way too long. She swings her body, planting her feet on the floor, and I brace my hands against her shoulders to slow her down. "How long was I out?" she asks quickly.

"About thirteen hours,"

"Dean!" She scolds, rising to her feet.

I hold her still reassuring her rapid thoughts, "it's okay, I've been up awhile. Tyler is fine."

She smiles thankfully and rubs her hands down her face. I hand her the mug, and she hugs it like a lifeline, lifting it to her nose to inhale the aroma. "You should have woken me."

"I just did." Lexie cocks a sarcastic eyebrow, blowing on the brown liquid to cool it. I smirk back, "drink your coffee, take a shower, and I'll make you some breakfast."

"Coffee in bed and breakfast, and I didn't even have to sleep with you."

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for a pretty face."

"Aah I think you're pretty too, Princess," she coos pinching my cheek. "But I'm gonna go for a run before showers or breakfast."

I square my eyes suspiciously, a playful smirk on my mouth, "you're not fighting me on eating or showering, and you're willingly going to go outside. Who are you, and what have you done with Lexie?"

She shrugs, grinning mischievously, "I'll fight with you if you want me too,_ if _you promise we can have make-up sex after." she winks.

I cock an eyebrow at her, doing nothing to stop the tug of my joyful smile, "stop flirting, and go for your run."

She rolls her eyes, and chuckles a laugh, "I forgot I make you nervous now." she curls a smug grin around her mug.

"You _do not_ make me nervous."

"No?" she questions, putting her coffee mug on the nightstand, whilst taking a step closer. She's so close, she has to turn her head to look up at me without her chin hitting my chest. "So how close I am doesn't make you nervous?"

I shake my head, and confidently tell her no, although, I admit, I am a little nervous. I still want to be with her, I haven't changed my mind. I will tell her; I just need to pick the right time, and this isn't it. It needs to be a serious conversation, not her teasing me. I want to take her on a real date, a proper get dressed up, take her somewhere fancy, honest to Chuck date. It's the least I owe her.

She drags a long nail delicately over the exposed skin from my wrist to the sleeve of my t-shirt, "what about this?"

"Nope."

The twinkle in her eyes when she smiles up at me makes the hairs on my arm rise in anticipation of what she's going to do. She tiptoes, kisses the left side of my neck, at the same time running her fingers along the waistband of my jeans from my hips inwards.

Her teeth lightly scrape my jawline before she kisses the scratching sensation away. Her petite fingers lead a hot trail against my skin, until she reaches the centre. Her fingers freeze on my belt buckle, and she drops back down to her feet. Her eyes focus on the floor, and she's the one who sounds nervous, her voice shaking "why aren't you stopping me?"

She doesn't understand why I'm suddenly not denying her. I lift her chin slowly, but before her eyes glide up, she pulls her chin from my hold and hastily leaves the room.

Fuck! She thinks I just want to screw her again. We agreed to try and be friends, and now she thinks I want the benefits back too.

When I do finally tell her, I think it's going to take a lot to convince her that I want all of her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Lexie POV**

The crisp morning, autumn air stings my face, but it's refreshing. It's nice to breathe in fresh air. The bunkers ventilation system is amazing, but it's not the same as breathing in lungful's of pure pine-scented oxygen.

I feel sick, my stomach a little fragile. I guess my lack of sleep, not eating properly and too much whiskey is catching up with me. But I push past it, running will help, exercise and fresh air.

Running normally helps clear my head, gives me time to get my thoughts in order. Today is an exception, after running for almost thirty minutes, my mind isn't any clearer. I have no idea what I'm doing with Tyler. I've been reading books, researching, and visited a million websites, yet I'm no closer to a cure. I'm struggling to believe there is one.

Dean and I have agreed to go back to being friends. I want that, I really do, I miss having him as a friend. Although, I'm not sure what that even means for us. I know I'm not going back on the road with the Winchester's or moving back into the bunker. It worked before Dean and I slept together, but now that line has been crossed, it won't work. Mainly because I know myself well enough to understand watching Dean hook up with other women is not something I can deal with.

It's nice to know if I need the back-up I can call Sam or Dean and it won't be awkward between us, that assurance will have to be enough. Maybe with a bit more time I will be able to get over him. It took me a while, but I understand now he doesn't love me. He cares about me, I know he does, but I mistook lust and passion for love. It was wishful thinking, on my part, that he ever loved me as more than a warm body to play with.

I was drunk the night he threw me in the shower, depressed and guilt ridden because of Tyler. I wanted to feel something other than numb, so I'm glad Dean walked away. I can't sleep with him again when it doesn't mean anything more than sex. Kissing him would have been a death sentence, sleeping with him would have been suicide.

This morning I was having fun teasing him about making him nervous. I was expecting him to stop me, it made me nervous when he didn't. I know he was going to kiss me, I know his touch too well, his timid fingers under my chin were bringing my head up to kiss him.

Dean may be able to separate sex and emotions, but I can't, not when it comes to him.

I hear the crack of a twig breaking, and fallen leaves crunching underfoot. I'm twisting to locate the sound, when the butt of a gun hits my left temple. My vision blurs, white and black spots dance around the trees. I feel the tickle, as blood trickles from the cut above my eye. I stumble but catch myself against a thick pine trunk.

I find my gun-toting assailant in my blurry vision. A blonde woman, five foot ten, clad in jeans and a leather jacket, points the black, nine millimetre gun in my face. I don't know who she is. The snarl on her lips tells me she knows exactly who I am, "Where's Tyler?"

* * *

**Dean POV**

I take a shower whilst Lexie goes for her run, then head to the kitchen to make breakfast. I'm going to make her pancakes and bacon so crispy it crumbles, her favourite. We're going to sit in the kitchen and I'm going to tell her I'm stupidly, madly in love with her. That I want her to give me a chance to make up for all the shitty things I've done. I want a chance to make her as happy as she makes me.

The kitchen isn't the most romantic of locations, although this is where she told me she loved me for the first time. I can't put off telling her any longer. I need to tell her. After her teasing this morning, my resolve is failing I know I won't be able to keep my hands off her if she touches me like that again. I need to tell her I love her, so she doesn't think I just want to screw her again.

Pancake batter swirls around the large mixing bowl, as I whisk the mixture to the correct consistency. Sam's greeting bellows through the halls, and I call out to tell him where I am.

"Oh crap you're making pancakes," Sam acknowledges, "what did you do to her?"

Sam clearly thinks he's a comedian. I turn to face him, whipping the batter into shape, "I didn't _do_ anything."

His eyebrows practically reach his hairline, "you're making Lexie's favourite breakfast, and it's not an apology?"

"No, it's not an apology. We're good, more than good actually."

"You finally tell her?"

"No, but I'm going to."

"It's about damn time," Sam quipps happily. "I'll give you some space. I'll be in my room if you need me."

I give him a thankful smile before he turns to leaves me to continue my breakfast preparation. He stops in the doorway again, "just remember the kitchen is a communal area. I have to eat here too" he jokes, smirking, before ambling off.

The semi-serious joke makes me somewhat hopeful. Sam's confident me telling Lexie will result in us ending up naked. I'm not so sure, I don't know if she can forgive me for everything that's happened, some of the bad shit I've said to her. Will I be able to explain everything in a way to make her believe I really did push her away because I thought it was what was best for her?

I have no idea what I'm going to say, how to even bring up the subject, but I have to find a way. I want a happily ever after with her, or as much as a hunter ever gets. I guess any time I get to spend with her, that's a happy ending.

* * *

**Lexie POV**

The aroma of pancakes and bacon assaults my nose as I get closer to the kitchen. I slow my pace, I can't lead the bitch behind me directly to Dean. But what choice do I have?

"Move!" she prods the gun in between my shoulder blades.

"Alright!" I growl, continuing to walk.

Dean is pouring pancake batter into the pan, when I take two steps in to the kitchen, and say his name. He lifts his head and his body goes rigid. He knows from my tone something is wrong. He turns none threateningly slow, spatula in hand. His jaw goes taut, the muscles rippling across his aggravated face, as his eyes take in the scene. The gun pointed at my head, my arms held high, the steady flow of blood from the cut above my eye, that is now dripping off my jaw.

"Dean let me introduce you to Kim. Tyler's girlfriend."

Understanding and fear register in the set of his angry eyes. This is going to end bloody, he knows it as well as I do. There's no other way for it to go. I just hope it's Kim's blood that ends it.

"Wife!" Kim corrects me, shoving the gun into the base of my skull.

Dean takes a step toward us, but Kim barks at him to stop. She motions for Dean to come with us, and we lead the way to the dungeon with Kim at our backs.

"Dean I'm sorry," I tell him as we walk. I've bought this on us, this is my fault. If something happens to him, that's on me. I can take some solace that Sam isn't here, he isn't in the line of fire I've created.

Dean sounds confident when he tells me, "It's fine. _We're_ going to be fine."

"Don't be so sure pretty." Kim goads shoving him toward the door.

Tyler is calling Kim's name as we open the door, he must be able to smell her. She stays behind us, gun held up and greets my brother with an adoring sigh of his name. She's smart enough to control her emotions, and not rush toward him, because that would give the hunters she's holding hostage an opportunity to attack her.

"Don't come too close," Tyler warns her, "there's some kind of invisible fire wall keeping me in."

Kim doesn't hesitate, she kicks the back of my legs, making me drop to my knees and simultaneously grabs the back of Dean's neck. She twists, putting her back to Tyler, kicks Dean to his knees and presses the gun under his chin.

"Let him out," she demands of me.

"Your wasting your time," Dean explains eyeing her over his shoulder, "he's locked in with a spell, we don't know how to break it."

It's the truth. Sam warned me I shouldn't cast the spell without knowing how to reverse it, but I ignored him. The only way Tyler is walking out of that dungeon is as a human. I've completely fucked us over, Kim can't go to him and Tyler can't come out to her. If either of them try they will be ignited with a white hot flame. Only humans can pass through the invisible barrier.

"Then you're no good to me as leverage, are you?" Kim realises, yanking Dean's head back with a tug of his hair. She grinds the gun in harder and chambers a round.

"NO! NO! WAIT." I plead, rising to my feet, "let me make a call." Her blood thirsty eyes flick to me, "let me call Sam, he will know what to do. We can figure it out."

Kim eyes me suspiciously for a second, "make it fast."

Kim's eyes follow my every movement as I slowly reach over and take my phone from the armband wrapped around my left bicep. Sam may know the answer, but I'm not calling him. I drop my gaze to Dean, he dips his head acknowledging our unspoken plan. We've been in a similar situation with a shifter. I focus on my phone screen, enter my passcode, open the recent call list. "Catch," I yell throwing the phone under arm toward Kim's face.

It's enough to distract her, for Dean to grab her hand. He doesn't have time to aim, he twists her hand that holds the weapon into her abdomen, and pulls the trigger. The point-blank shot knocks her off balance, and she falls backward into the barrier. The blue flame ignites her body and she's reduced to ash in a white, hot flash in seconds.

Tyler's anguished roar replaces the echo of the gunshot. He grabs Dean dragging him over the barrier, ignoring the sizzle of his own arms, as the spell begins to work its magic. Tyler throws Dean into the brick wall, then stands panting, surveying his charred arm.

The gun lies at Tyler's foot and he bends to pick it up, watching Dean climb to his feet quickly. Dean is winded from the blow, and I can tell his right shoulder is dislocated, the way it hangs.

My brother raises the gun to Dean's chest, and I yell for Tyler to stop. He keeps his eyes on Dean, turns the gun in my direction and lets off an aimless shot, in the same instant Dean rushes forward knocking the weapon from his hand. The gun falls to the floor sliding out of reach of both men.

"I don't need it," Tyler snarls, "I'd rather kill you with my bare hands."

Time freezes. I watch in slow motion, as the man I love, and my brother square off ready to fight. A battle that can end only one way, one of them ceasing to exist.

I have to choose.

I'm no longer in my body. I'm watching it all unfold like I'm some poor bystander who will forever be traumatized by the horror she is about to witness.

Sam slides to a halt beside me, I didn't know he was back. He holds the handle of a long, sharp, silver machete in his hand.

Tyler's fist connects with Dean's mouth, and forces him back into the wall. Dean will be no match for the heart broken, grieving vampire that is my brother. Tyler holds Dean against the wall, a vice-like grip on his throat. I'm floating across the floor, and swinging the blade I didn't even register I had taken from Sam, before Dean can struggle for one breath.

* * *

**Dean POV.**

The force of Tyler's right hook knocks me back into the wall, and opens a cut on my cheek. My dislocated shoulder causes a protesting yelp, that's stolen by Tyler's hand around my throat, shoving me back into the brick.

My air is cut off, as the red line rings around his neck. His head falls a split second before his body drops. Lexie is stood in her brother's place.

She is a picture of glorious beauty, heartbreaking devastation and enraged fierceness holding a fighters stance. Feet shoulder width apart, arms locked in a tight square, blade held ready to continue a fight her brain hasn't registered is over.

Her tear swimming eyes cling to mine, as she heaves heavy breaths in and out. Her eyes demand mine, because she's using all her strength to not look down at the wreckage she has caused.

Sam moves toward her, one long arm outstretched to touch her, and I warn him off shaking my head. I know the frightening, feral look in her ocean blue eyes. Sam's meant to be comforting hand will startle her, and she will swing the weapon without hesitation.

I talk slowly, pronouncing every word carefully, "It's over Lex, it's done. It's done." I step over Tyler's limp body, and my movement breaks her denial. Her arms go slack, the blade clangs to the concrete floor. I throw myself at her, burying her head into my bad shoulder, to stop her from seeing the damage around us. She crumbles against me crying into my neck.

I hold her tightly with my good arm, I'm the only thing holding her together. Ignoring the pulsing pain in my shoulder. My bloody nose is dripping down her back, and I can feel the sticky blood of her cut eye against my neck. Neither of us care. I can feel the strength draining from her, she's going to collapse, and I won't be able to catch her. "Sam, get her out of here," I command.

Sam scoops her up in his arms, encloses her head with a large hand against his shoulder, and is out of the room with three long strides.

I take a minute to get my brain in gear. Lexie really just did that. She really just sliced her brother's head off, without a second of hesitation for me. To save me. The brother she has spent almost five years grieving for, the brother she thought she could get back by curing him, she just ended him to save my life.

The asshole who can't admit he loves her. The dickwad who screws with her head. The prick who made her leave her home. If she didn't before, she's going to hate me now.

I make my way slowly to the infirmary. I need Sam and his gigantic hands to force my shoulder back into place, and I know that's where he will have taken Lexie. Her eye needs stitching.

I enter to see a bitch-faced Sam stood looming over Lexie. She has her left leg stretched out on the metal framed bed, jeans pulled down to her knees, using a pair of tweezers to fish the bullet out of her upper left thigh. Tyler's aimless shot hit her.

"Would you let me do it?" Sam demands, making a move to grab the tweezers from Lexie.

The evil glares she gives him is enough to stop him dead in his tracks. She sees me over his shoulder and offers a tight-lipped, sad smile then goes back to her bullet finding.

Sam understands he's fighting a losing battle with her, so he positions himself to fix my shoulder. I keep my eyes on Lexie, nothing can hurt me as much as she must be hurting right now. "Ready?" Sam asks.

"Just do it."

He unnecessarily starts counting, I know he's going on two. "One, two-"

The crunch of my shoulder going back to its rightful location, and my yelp of "son of a bitch" makes Lexie flinch. She freezes, closing her eyes whilst my voice echoes around the tiled room.

I catch my breath, observing her. She composes herself, opening her eyes to continue her work, but her hand is shaking. She spies me watching her, and quickly averts her eyes, forcing her shaking hand to plunge back in to the rounded hole.

* * *

**Lexie POV**

Sam sets about threading a needle for me, whilst Dean washes the blood from his face. Sam's phone rings. "Hey Chris," he answers the hunters call in a tone ready to tell him now really isn't a good time. "Yeah, okay. I'll pass it on. Thanks for the call buddy."

Sam ends the call, awkwardness and unease coat his features as he talks to me. "Um, Tracy is in the hospital. Chris said it was vamps, said she looks like she was tortured. She's in a bad way, docs aren't sure if she'll make it."

I concentrate on finding the bullet unable to look Sam in the eye. To see the pity and understanding I don't deserve.

I found Tyler in a bar, kidnapped him, without a second thought about his nest missing him, or being able to track him down. I've caused all of this. Kim must have tracked his scent as far as she could, then found Tracy and tortured her for information. The hunting community is small, all the monsters know we know each other. So this is on me. Tracy fighting for her life, Dean being hurt, the bullet in my leg. All of this is on me, it's all my fault.

Dean tells Sam to call Cas, to ask him to heal Tracy. But what does it matter, she's already suffered because of my stupidity, and misguided hope of a cure.

"I'll ask Cas to come heal you after-" Sam suggests, using his phone to call Cas.

"No!" I tell him sharply. I scrape metal, plunge deeper, and pull the foreign body from my flesh. "I don't want him to. I was the one being reckless, I deserve to-"

"Lex, this isn't-" Sam's reassuring tone pisses me off.

I take hold of the needle, and pierce my skin to sew the hole, "Sam I swear if you tell me this isn't my fault, I'll stab you in the eye with this needle."

Sam makes the smart decision, and doesn't push the issue of whose fault this whole mess is.

* * *

**Dean POV**

Cas went to cure Tracy, then came and patched me up. He offered his services to Lexie, and she threatened to kill him if he laid a finger on her. He ignored her threat, tried to persuade her. She paused from stitching the gash above her left brow long enough to throw a glass at him. Cas deflected it at the last second, but he took the hint and left.

Lexie casually cleared the research materials, whilst Sam and I built a pyre outside, in the woods. I watched her for a minute from the stairs, as she limped around the room, closing the books, putting files back into their rightful boxes, ripping pages of notes she had made from pads. She was so calm and methodical, it was unnerving.

Sam and I stand a few feet behind Lexie, as she watches Tyler's body burn. When Tyler's body is charred and unrecognisable, no longer resembling a person, Sam flashes me a quick, sorrowful smile, and heads back inside.

I stand beside Lexie, and reach to take her hand. She dances her fingers around mine, before pulling away, folding her arms over her chest. "I want to - I'd rather be alone right now," she tells me firmly.

She's shutting me out. Regret for saving me maybe, guilt for killing her brother. Whatever it is, I know I won't get her to open up to me by force. She will push back, put more stubborn walls up, she needs time to process. So I leave her alone.

* * *

**Dean POV**

It's been three days since we burnt Tyler's body. Lexie hasn't spoken a word to either of us since she threatened to stab Sam in the eye with her needle and asked me to leave her alone. Sam tried speaking to her about everything that went down, and she threw a large, hardback book at him that narrowly missed his head. Since then we've decided to give her time, let her come to terms with it all.

Sam and I have taken turns to take coffee, food, and water to her room where she's holed up. She never answers to our knocks, so we let ourselves in to give her fresh food and take away the half-eaten stuff.

I was scared she was going to bail, run off in the middle of the night, so I removed the spark plugs from her car. I've hidden them in my sock drawer. She won't know what's wrong when it won't start. She can change a flat tire but that's as far as her mechanical knowledge goes. If she wants to leave, she will have to ask me or Sam for help.

I'm flat on my stomach on my bed, my arm stretched out on Lexie's side, when the squeak of my door handle wakes me. I should be reaching for the gun in my nightstand. However, if it were someone coming to kill me, I doubt they would be moving so slowly, as it means they have lost the element of surprise.

The light from the hallway penetrates my closed eyes, then is blocked when the intruder steps into the room. I open my sleepy eyes to discover Lexie half in the room, her forehead resting on the hand holding the door. She lets out a long-relieved breath and my voice makes her jump, "Lex?"

"Sorry," she whispers, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, go back to sleep."

I know it's not nothing, she wouldn't be sneaking in to check on me if it were nothing. I prop myself up, switching on the lamp as she turns to leave, "come to bed, please."

She debates it for a second, then steps completely into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She climbs under the sheets, gazing up at me. I'm way too familiar with the despairing set of eyes, the worry lines creasing her brow. She's had a nightmare. I assume it was a nightmare that starred yours truly, that was vivid enough for her to come to my room to make sure I'm okay.

I switch off the lamp then slide my arm under her neck. She shuffles over, so she's pressed against me, burying her head in the crook of my neck, her palm flat against my heart. She's trembling. I would give my soul to take the pain and fear away from her right now. I put my hand over hers, push it deeper into my skin to ensure she can feel the steady beat of my lifeline. "It's still beating, thanks to you."

Thanking her for killing her brother to save me isn't the best choice of words, but how else do I say it?

She laughs without humour, her voice muffled against my neck. I inhale deeply, ready to ask her to talk to me. Before I exhale she speaks softly, suppressing tears. "Can I just lie here, pretend everything is how it used to be? Before Tyler, before Sam came home, just for tonight, please?"

I'll pretend forever if that's what she wants. I want it to be like this forever, wrapped up together in our bed, her seeking comfort from me. But now isn't the right time to tell her. I'm starting to think there won't ever be a right time.

I kiss her cheek and she sinks further into me, throwing her leg over my hip to get as close to me as possible. This is enough, for now.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Next Night.**

**Dean POV**

I hand Sam his chicken, avocado, healthy rabbit food from the bag, and put my own food on the table, leaving Lexie's in the brown paper bag ready to take it to her. Sam and I exchange a questioning look, hearing approaching heels clink on the tiled floor.

Lexie struts into view, talking on the phone and smiles broadly when she sees us both. She's wearing light grey, suede boots that come just above her knees, a simple, black mini dress hugging her thighs, a light grey, leather jacket to match her boots thrown over her arm. Her hair is down, curling around her face. She's applied dark and smoky make-up to her eyes, which completely pulls the focus from the stitched cut above her left brow.

She tells the caller she will be there in an hour, before hanging up.

I'm staring at her, my mouth open in an O, I don't care, she looks incredible. A stark contrast to the tear stained, ungroomed mute she has been for the last few days. She was gone from my bed when I woke up this morning, and I hadn't seen her until now.

"Wow," Is the only word my brain can form.

My brother finds his compliment much easier, "That's Dean for 'wow, you look amazing.' What's the occasion?"

"Why thank you gentlemen," she curtsies at the end of the table. "Tracy is in town. Figured I owe her a night of drinking on account of the torture."

I reluctantly pull my eyes from her sitting down, to pretend I'm interested in my burger. Although now it doesn't look so mouth watering good. It looks like it's going to get stuck in my dry throat, because Lexie is going out with Tracy. I know what that means. She's going to drink herself into oblivion and fuck away her sorrow with the first dick, pun intended, she comes across.

Sam snaps his fingers in front of my face, "Dean!" he barks, "do you want to go?"

"Huh?" I've totally missed whatever conversation they just had.

"Tracy wanted to thank you two for sending Cas," Lexie explains, smiling sheepishly, "so, do you two want to join us?"

"Sure, yeah. I could do with a drink." I try acting casual, but from Sam's gruff chuckle and Lexie's smirk, I know I sounded anything but casual.

She informs us Tracy will be in Finnegan's in an hour, so we need to eat or go change or do whatever we need to do, because it's at least a fifteen-minute drive into town and she wants to be there before Tracy arrives.

Sam grabs his salad box standing up. Lexie stops him saying, "before you go, I need to say something."

The air in the room gets a bit thicker and Sam sits back down ready to listen. Lexie inhales steadying her shaky voice, "I need to say this and then I don't want it brought up again. I don't want to hear it wasn't my fault, blah, blah, blah. No one blames me and all that shit. I need to say my piece and then the subject is off limits, agreed?"

Sam and I share a disapproving look. It has to be about Tyler, whatever she has to say is going to be about her brother, and she's telling us she doesn't want to discuss it. We both focus back on her and she accepts that as agreement.

"I could have read a million books. Thought of a thousand different ways to save Tyler. Hell I might even have found a cure but then what was I expecting? Tyler and I go hunting together? Play happy families? I never even stopped to consider if he wanted to be cured or not." She fights back tears with a sniffle, "I was doing it all for me, because I felt guilty. He was what he was because of me, and I wanted so bad to make it right. Consequences be damned"

"There's nothing wrong-" Sam starts to protest.

Lexie glares at Sam, but I tell him, "Shut up Sam."

She flashes me a small thankful grin but it drops from her lips quickly. Lexie begins to rant, throwing out the thoughts and scenarios she's played over and over in her head, whilst she locked herself in her room. "Say I did cure him, what was to stop him from going out and getting another vamp to turn him? What if he stayed human, but the memories of all he'd done ate away at him? We all know the mind is the only monster we can't kill. Tyler died five years ago, along with the rest of my family, I just couldn't see that. I put you both in danger. The consequences caught up to me, here in _your _home, and I'm so sorry for that."

Sam opens his mouth to say something Sam-ish, but I smack him upside the head before he utters a syllable. He turns full bitch face at me.

Lexie giggles, her voice is hopeful and joking, "I can't apologise enough, but I can ply you both with copious amounts of alcohol and promise to never do it again."

Sam rises picking up his salad in the same motion. He announces he's going to eat whilst he changes his shirt, and meet us in the garage in ten minutes. He uses his one free hand to pull Lexie into a hug, and she wraps her arms around his waist, squeezing tightly. Sam kisses the top of her head, "I love you, nerd."

"Love you too, dork."

Watching them together fills me with contentment. I don't know why I ever thought they were more than friends. They are close like siblings, you can see they adore each other, value one another.

I feel a pang of guilt, because my dickish attitude, my inability to tell Lexie how I feel, has denied them both the love they have for each other. I have kept them apart.

But I can change that. I can make that right, tonight, I'm telling her. We can have a couple drinks, have some fun and then I'm going to tell her how I feel. Like she said consequences be damned, bad timing or not I'm doing it.

Sam disappears around the corner, and Lexie makes her way to sit in the chair he had just vacated. She steals one of my fries. "Too bad Cas healed your shoulder, otherwise I may have stood a chance at beating you at pool," she jests, her eyes glinting humour under the fluorescent light.

"Doubt it," I grin sarcastically, "I could still kick your ass with one arm."

"That sounds like a challenge, Winchester." she giggles. "Which I _would _take you up on, but I have a bullet wound so, you know, I can't stand for long periods of time." she's jokingly making an excuse, but it's also the truth.

"I can always call Cas, ask him to fix you."

She averts her eyes, looking down at the table, "no, I need to feel it. I need to suffer it a little longer, remind me to not be so reckless." She shakes off her shame filled tears making eye contact again, "I threw a glass at him didn't I? I should really apologise for that."

"He knows you didn't mean it."

She takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, "Hey Cas, you glorious, blue-eyed, handsome angel. If you can hear me, I'm sorry I threw a glass at you. Can you forgive me? Thank you for healing Tracy too, oh, and Dean I guess."

"You guess?" I comment raising my brow sneering at her.

She shrugs, grinning cheekily, "he has ruined my pool winning chances." We both laugh, and her phone chimes in her pocket. She takes it out and reads the message with a happy smile, "Cas says I'm forgiven and I'm welcome with the sunglasses wearing smiley."

We both chuckle. She seems lighter, more like her old self. I guess now all the hard stuff is over, now that Tyler is really gone, she can relax. She doesn't have any pressure on her to do something to help him.

* * *

**Dean POV**

Baby glides gracefully over the tarmac of Finnegan's parking lot. Lexie and I are still laughing at Sam's insistence he didn't change his shirt three times because he wants to impress Tracy.

Tracy and Mac, a hunter we've crossed paths with once or twice, are leaning against a blue Honda Civic waiting for our arrival. Tracy's face lights up with a happy smile seeing the Impala.

"Ah damn it, Sammy," I chuckle sympathetically, shutting off Baby's engine, "looks like Tracy already has a date."

Lexie's surprised inhale makes me look at her in the rearview mirror. She's wearing a surprised but happy smile. She titters, sliding forward to pat Sam's chest over his shoulder, "don't worry, dork. He's here for me."

She's out of the car and walking speedily toward Tracy and Mac as my chest tightens and my breath catches in my throat. How did it never occur to me before this very minute? She told us she was with Tracy and Mac when she found Tyler.

Mac is ex-military, some top secret special forces. He's a tall, white dude with a trimmed beard, slicked back hair and the swagger of a man who knows how to handle himself. He's one hundred percent Lexie's type, so of course they would end up together.

I watch helplessly as Mac jogs the last few steps between him and Lexie. He scoops her up into his arms, lifting her off her feet. He spins her around like some chick flick cliché and she leans down to kiss him.

I should leave. There's no way I can't spend the night watching her with someone else. I can't watch someone else in my place.

"You okay?" Sam asks cautiously.

I shake my head accusing him, "did you know?"

"No. I swear, she never mentioned anything. Maybe it's nothing serious."

I scoff deep in my throat, "look at the way he's looking at her," I command focusing on my sympathetic brother. I wait for him to look out the windscreen. Lexie is hugging Tracy tightly, Mac stood to the side staring at them, a wide smile crinkling his adoring looking eyes. "Now, tell me that's not how I look at her."

Sam doesn't try to deny it suggesting, "we can leave?"

Lexie turns to see what we're doing, waving us out of the car.

"One drink and I'm out," I tell Sam putting my hand on the door handle.

I said I would try and be friends with her, and I meant it. But this is a bad idea, I know it is as soon as I plaster on the fake smile, walking toward the audience. Mac stands taller as we get closer, puffing out his chest. He obviously knows about me and Lexie, he's threatened by me, and rightfully so. Lexie doesn't believe I love her, and maybe she has told him that, but Mac isn't taking any chances.

One drink, I can manage one drink. Otherwise, there's no way this doesn't end with my fist in Mac's perfectly trimmed, bearded face.

"Dean, Sam, this is Mac." Lexie introduces us.

I shake Mac's offered hand, and he's eye balling me. His words say, "we've met, back in Memphis," but his face is a clear warning.

I squeeze his hand tighter than necessary, "yeah Sam and I saved your ass from that witch."

* * *

**Lexie POV.**

I didn't know Mac was with Tracy. He made her promise not to tell me, he wanted to surprise me. I'm definitely surprised and completely freaking out.

Mac knows I was sleeping with Dean, but that's all he knows. He doesn't know I'm madly in love with the sullen hunter he's currently shaking hands with. He's oblivious to the fact that I spent last night and most of this morning wrapped in Dean's arms in his bed. I woke before Dean, but stayed cuddled into him as long as I could, before my bladder required me to move.

Their handshake is going on way too long. "Come on now boys," Tracy starts grinning menacingly, "why don't you just whip them out and measure."

Oh god, trust Tracy to make an already awkward situation that little bit extra. Though I can't help but let a comical snort rip out of my nose.

Dean has his shit eating grin, and before he speaks I know he's going to make a snide remark. "Or we can just ask Lex," he suggests casually. "Happy to give you a reminder, sweetheart," he adds, winking in my direction, as he strides past us toward the door.

Tracy finds it hilarious, laughing brightly as she links arms with Sam, following the oldest Winchester. Mac glares at Dean's back, if looks could kill Dean would be with a reaper right now.

Mac and I are relatively new, been seeing each other for a little over a month. He's a good guy, and I want to see where it goes. I wait until the three hunters are through the door to talk, "Mac I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were coming-"

"You'd have asked your ex to stay at home?"

"He's not my ex," I insist too quickly.

"Maybe you should tell him that," Mac huffs taking my hand, and leading me in to the bar.

* * *

**Lexie POV**

The first round of drinks go down way too quickly. I return to the table with the second, insisting all drinks are on me tonight. It's the least I owe all of them on account of Tracy being tortured, Sam and Dean being put in danger, and ducking Mac's calls for the better part of a week.

I take my seat next to Mac again, once drinks have been handed out. Mac is on my left, Tracy to my right, Sam beside her and Dean directly across from me one vacant chair separating him and Mac.

Tracy looks good, she's in really good spirits, flirting unashamedly with Sam. Thanks to Cas, there's no physical evidence of whatever ordeal she was put through. She's a tough cookie too, so I'm hoping there's no mental scars remaining either.

Tracy sees me staring at her, "Lex, I love you, but I don't swing that way." She jests, giving my knee a friendly squeeze.

I chuckle, throwing my arm around her shoulder, and smooshing our cheeks together, "please you'd totally swing this way if I asked."

"Just say the word babe, I'm all yours," Tracy giggles.

The laughter the table shares naturally fades. Then Mac switches the tone to serious, "So, you going to tell us what happened to make you ditch us?"

I did ditch him and Tracy in Portland. I saw Tyler in the bar and went into a red haze of despair and bewilderment. My body took over, hunter autopilot kicked in. I kept Tyler in my sights, waiting for an opportunity, then pumped him full of dead man's blood before, throwing him in the trunk of my car. I was halfway to Lebanon, before I knew where I was going, or formulating any kind of plan.

Tracy knows what happened, Kim explained everything to her whilst trying to extract information from her. I probably owe Mac an explanation, but I don't want to discuss it, relive it.

"It's a long story," I smile unconvincingly, "but it's over now, so it doesn't matter."

Mac leans in and kisses my lips softly understanding I don't want to talk about it. Dean's phone rings, pulling everyone's attention to him, as he takes it from his pocket. He turns the phone to show me the caller's name, Benny. Dean answers with a bright, friendly smile, as he gets to his feet. I excuse myself from our captive audience, as Dean steps away and I follow him outside.

Whilst I was hiding away in my room, I called Benny with the intention of asking him to track down Tyler's nest. I needed to make sure no other suckheads would come looking for the, now deceased, members of their nest. Benny informed me Dean had the same thought, and had already tasked him with taking down the remaining vamps.

Dean walks to stand by Baby whilst he talks. He thanks Benny for the third time, and hands me the phone, when I indicate I want to talk to the friendly vampire.

"Hey Benny,"

"Hey Darling." His silky-smooth, friendly voice always makes me smile fondly, "it's taken care of. I got them all, you and your Princess are safe."

I sigh relieved and thankful for one less thing to worry about. I snicker lightly, "thank you. I'll add this to the long list of favours I owe you."

He insists I owe him nothing, that he's just happy to help, then says goodbye before hanging up. I hand Dean his phone back, and he's staring down at me with a pensive frown.

"We should get back in there," I advise, turning to walk away.

"Hold up," he calls grabbing my elbow, stopping me. He stands directly in my path to the door, he jerks his head toward the bar, "does he know about us?"

I nod my head, "he knows about the arrangement we had. He doesn't know I'm in- he doesn't know the rest."

The hunting community is a small group, it doesn't take a genius to figure out a male and female duo are more than likely screwing in their down time. Plus Dean has always had a reputation with the ladies. That doesn't mean Mac needs to know I fell in love with Dean. Dean doesn't feel the same way, so it's an irrelevant detail.

He looks at his feet as he asks, "how long has it been going on?"

Why that is any of business, I don't know, but I'm not in the mood for a fight. "A month or so."

His expression makes him look almost confused, but his words are angry, "so the flirting, 'let's be friends' speech, what was all that?"

I'm not sure I understand why he's pissed at me. I'm confused and it shows in my voice, "It was exactly that. I miss you as my friend. We've always flirted, I was trying to get back to how we were before-"

He sneers interrupting, "And the trying to fuck me an hour after you got back?"

"First of all, it wasn't an _hour_ after I got back," I spit at him, balling my fists at my sides. "Second of all, you were the one trying to undress me, and I was drunk, besides we've already talked about that."

He takes a step closer to me, a condescending squint to his eyes, "tell me has he got the same rules I had?"

"Screw you, asshole!" I lose the confusion, and find my anger, I dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from slapping the arrogant smirk from his plush lips. "You don't want me, but no one else can have me, is that it?"

"Would you stop putting words in my mouth!" he growls at me, "tell me when have I _ever_ said I don't want you?"

"I mean other than my body, Dean!" I huff, pissed off. Why am I even explaining myself to him? None of this is his business. "Why do you care who I'm with anyway?"

"Oh my god!" he throws his hands in the air frustrated, his head back, talking to the stars. "You're so freaking clueless," he curses the sky.

I don't have it in me to ride one of my Dean Winchester roller-coasters of emotions right now. To figure out at which turn I'm going to realise he's politely letting me down, because he cares just enough to not want to intentionally hurt me.

I take the opportunity to step around him, and stride toward the bar, he yells my name as a request, but I ignore him. I owe him nothing.

* * *

**Dean POV**

Three drinks and two shots later I've had enough of sharing a table with Mac and his gentleman like etiquette. He's not all over her the way I have been in the past. Making my hands roam up her thighs, kissing her neck, devouring her as far as she would allow me to go in public. Which is worse, he's being respectful, he's being a _boyfriend_.

It's on the tip of my tongue to announce I'm leaving, when Tracy says my name, jerking her head towards the bar. "That blonde has been giving you come-to-bed eyes since we arrived."

I hadn't noticed, until Tracy pulls my attention to her. The blonde is pretty, got thick red painted lips, a short denim skirt, showing off a girly rose tattoo on her upper thigh, her top is cut low and a half size too small, but she's got the body to pull it off.

Tracy sneers cheekily, looking over at her, "although I don't know if she's got more air in her head or her tits."

Everyone laughs, it's more than obvious that her boobs are fake and her blonde hair is from a bottle. I wiggle my brow at Lexie suggestively, as she takes a swig of her beer. "Kinda reminds me of the waitress we took home in Shreveport. What was her name?"

I'm more than aware I'm being a jealous dick, but I'm not sure I care. It's not the first time I've referred to our past. I've thrown in a comment or story wherever I could, I want our more than colourful past to be clear to Mac.

Lexie splutters around the bottle neck, spitting beer as she chokes slightly. My last remark is obviously a step too far. "Okay man, we get it, you two have history," Mac snaps at me, raising his voice.

It wasn't history when she was trying to screw me in the shower less than a week ago, is what I want to throwback but that would be crossing a line.

Lexie puts a calming hand on his arm holding him in his seat when he tries to rise to his feet. "Let's go," she suggests softly.

He ignores her. "You blew it dude," Mac tells me with a sly smile. "You may have history, but she's going home with me."

"Really?" I ask, matching his smug smile, "didn't seem like history when she woke up in my bed this morning, or when she tried to fuck me in the shower last week."

"Oh snap!" Tracy adds for good measure.

He's a bigger man than me, because he doesn't throw himself across the table to punch me, which is what I would have done. He looks at Lexie who's whole body language reeks of guilt.

Lexie's disbelieving face is fixated on me. I know she's not the bigger person, and would punch me in the face, if she were closer. She doesn't need to call me an asshole, her eyes are screaming it at me.

Mac rises to his feet, I do the same, bracing myself for his assault. He chuckles indifferently, "you're not even worth it." He throws some money on the table from his pocket and leaves.

"You're a fucking prick," Lexie tells me, swigging the last of her beer, before following him.

* * *

**Dean POV**

I give it twenty minutes to make sure Lexie and Mac will be gone. Taken their domestic argument somewhere private. I leave Sam whispering in Tracy's ear whilst she giggles. Lexie is sat on Baby's hood, her feet on the bumper, a thunderous look gracing her normally pretty features. I'm in serious trouble.

"Mac left, so thanks for that," she tells me miserably, as I get closer.

"Not my fault you picked someone who can't handle your past."

She shakes her head, exhaling loudly sliding off the bonnet, "I'm gonna go say goodbye to Sam and Tracy, and then you can take me to get my car."

She takes a step and I plant myself in her path. I'm done with this. I'm so done with all this bullshit. I don't give a fuck about bad timings. I don't care if I'm going to screw this up, because that's what I always do. I want her, and she's going to know it whether she wants to or not. "No!"

"No?" she questions, her eyebrows raised.

"You heard me, no." I walk her backward, and lift her up without warning, when her butt hits Baby's hood. I hook my hands behind her knees and slider her down the sleek black bonnet. Parting her legs a bit too aggressively, I place myself between them and claim her mouth as my own.

She kisses me back for a second, before twisting her face away from me. "What the fuck is your problem?" she spits, trying to shove me back.

I slam my hands on Baby's bonnet, either side of her. I let the words rip out of me. Sick of dancing around my feelings, tired of feeling like shit, so I let her have it. "You! You're my fucking problem!"

She's shocked at my outburst, but she straightens her back, holds her head high, and purses her lips. Our noses are practically touching, my eyes can't focus on her properly, we're too close. "Back up!" she tells me jabbing a warning finger into my chest.

"No, it's my turn to talk, and you're going to listen, god damn it!" Both our chests are heaving as we pant out our emotions. I stand straight, but stay between her legs. "You're a major problem for me Lex," I admit, boldly keeping my eyes on her. My tone is anything but soft, I sound aggravated, because I am. "You made me fall in love with you, then you left! You show up here fucking some new dude. You give me some speech about being friends, two days after trying to screw me in the shower. You sleep in my bed. You assume to know how I feel, and don't give me a chance to tell you otherwise. You saved my life, then ignore me for three days. So yeah you're my god damn problem!"

Not the most romantic way to tell someone you love them for the first time, I guess, but what does she expect, it's me.

She starts to laugh hysterically, one hand braced on my chest the other on Baby's hood. I don't get what the joke is. She lifts her eyes back up to my face, and it brings on another fit of giggles, that make her have to look away.

I throw my hands up, "and she's laughing at me, that's always a good sign." I take a step away, and she grabs my jacket, pulling me back to her.

"I'm sorry," she snorts, taking a deep breath. She shakes the laughter and hair from her face. Once she's composed herself, she meets my eyes, but is stifling another smirking giggle, "I'm sorry- sorry. It's just, you're completely pissed at me right now. You just told me you're in love with me, and you're totally mad about it." She snickers, dropping her head to avoid whatever expression is on my face that she finds so hilarious. "It's just a typical Dean thing to do."

It's funny because it's true. I'm downright pissed off, because I'm in love with her stubborn, confident, funny, sweet, giggling ass. The laughter rolls up from my chest, and we both end up laughing like a pair of idiots until we're breathless. We manage to control ourselves after a few minutes.

She captures my lips, and kisses me passionately. She's never kissed me like this before. I can feel her passion, her desire, her relief, she's putting everything she has into it, and I feel it in my core. I pull away when I'm close to losing my breath, because I need to tell her properly, "I love you, Lexie."

"I love you too," she pecks my lips, before jumping to her feet. She leans in to me, gazing up lovingly. "Now take me home, Princess."

'Home' - It's music to my ears. I'm taking her home, and never letting her go again. I'm going to make all them chick flicks jealous. I kiss her lips again, then lean my head against hers, "I promise from now on, the only girl you have to share me with is Baby."


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Three Months later.**

**Dean POV.**

Lexie sleeps soundly beside me, her lips slightly parted. Her face relaxed and peaceful. I know she's going to be grumpy when I wake her, but it will be worth it, I hope.

I kiss her cheek softly, her mouth twitches in a quick smile as she snuggles closer, resting her hand on my chest. "Lex, wake up," I coax, shaking her shoulder slightly.

She groans, keeping her eyes closed, "what's wrong?"

"Open your eyes." She moans deeply in her throat, she_ really_ hates being woken up. I know she's not going to willingly open her eyes unless I give her a good enough reason to. "There's a spider on your pillow."

I swear I've never seen her move so fast. She's literally climbed over me and on her feet in a matter of milliseconds. She stares wide eyed at her pillow looking for the spider. When she can't see it, she starts fluffing her hair wildly thinking its crawled in. I'm laughing hysterically as I sit up, swinging my legs off the bed.

"Where is it? Where'd it go?" she panics, brushing her shoulders off swiftly.

I grab her right flailing wrist, and pull her into me as I rise to my feet. "There wasn't one," I confess, wrapping my arms around her waist, "I just needed you to get up."

I lower my head to kiss her, but she leans around me, to check the time on the nightstand before I reach her lips. "Dean, it's two a.m," she whines.

"I know, which means we need to be in the car in five minutes." I kiss her quickly, then step away to pull on a pair of jeans. I motion up and down her body, she's wearing the blue plaid shirt of mine she stole."You can keep the shirt, but you might want to put some jeans on."

She stands, watching me suspiciously, "where are we going?"

"Trust me," I tell her. She needs no other instruction. She walks to the chair in the corner of the room where she threw her jeans before she got into bed and pulls them on.

Twenty minutes later, she's tucked under my arm. Her head resting on my shoulder as I drive Baby through the night on the rain drenched asphalt. "Don't fall asleep," I warn, kissing her forehead.

She leans up, and places a light kiss on my jawline, "not going to."

I need her to stay awake, I need her to see this. A few weeks ago we were driving home from a job and a storm broke out. I started to pull over but Lexie asked me to carry on. I assumed it was because it reminded her of Tyler. I asked her about it when we got home. She told me, in frighteningly perfect detail, about the dream world the Djinn put her in. She confessed to having the same dream numerous times whilst we weren't together. Overtime the dream turned to a nightmare, one she had regularly. Storms reminded her of the bad dreams now, they no longer excite her the way they once had.

I drive another mile or so. Then the first fork of lightning hits the horizon at what seems like the end of the road we're travelling on. I really owe Sam for using his nerdy skills to track a storm for me. I hear Lexie hold her breath then she sits up to look at me. "I wanted to show you the dream is now a reality," I explain, pulling Baby to the side of the road.

Her eyes fill with what I hope are happy tears, but I can't be sure. I shut off the engine. Lexie kisses me unexpectedly catching the side of my mouth, as I turn to face her. "I love you," I tell her softly when she pulls away.

Her cheeks flush pink, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth looking down. "I love you, too," she speaks to my stomach, shying away from my gaze.

I chuckle lifting her head to meet my eyes, "I've told you that so many times, for months now, and you still get flustered when I say it. Why?"

She shrugs her shoulders, her mouth curling in a shy smile. "Because I don't know if you've noticed or not," she begins laying her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her as she continues, "but I'm not only hopelessly in love with you, I also have a _huge_ crush on you."

"Hhhmm," I kiss the crown of her head. "That's right now I remember," the memory of her telling me all the reasons she loves me springs to mind, pulling a wide grin to my face. "You love that I'm an idiot, laugh at my own dumb jokes. You love that I go in, guns blazing, a headstrong fool. I'm a stubborn asshole, a smug bastard."

"Smug, _petty_ bastard," she corrects, her smile evident in her affectionate tone.

"Right, right. But I'm also a sensitive, caring, funny, sweet, chick-flick loving hero."

"Which you've never denied, by the way," she points out chuckling.

"If you tell Sam, I really will put spiders on your pillow."

She slaps my chest playfully, laughing. The thunder booms above us as if to tell us to shut up. The lightning illuminates the cloud filled night sky. We sit, wrapped up together, watching the storm, listening to the rain drum musical notes on the car.

I will gladly watch every storm we come across for the rest of time, as long as it means our storm has passed, and it's nothing but sunshine and rainbows for us now.

I know that's impossible, I know that's a dream. There is going to be hard times ahead, the life we lead it's inevitable. But I know we will both fight until our last breaths to make us both happy, to make sure we make the most of the time we have. I'll fight for her even after my last breath, if I'm able.


End file.
